Straightening the Curves
by Dixie Darlin
Summary: Part 2 of 3. A murder trial, romance picks up where it left off, and Bo learns to be a dad.  Just a glimpse of what's to come.
1. Under Arrest

**A/N: As promised, here is the sequel to The Wind Blows Free. To help with the time frame, the first story was during June of 1987, and this story is set during January-February in 1988. Hope y'all enjoy!

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**Straightening the Curves**

**Prologue**

**Balladeer: Howdy, folks, and welcome back to Hazzard County. It's been several months since y'all came and visited. Since that time, some things have changed, some have stayed the same, and some have progressed. **

**The Dukes are still here, no need to worry 'bout them. Well, Luke's still gone. Remember he got called back into the Marines, but he's due back real soon. Daisy and Enos FINALLY got engaged and their supposed to be gettin' married in March. Bo and Rachel are still married and still expectin' that baby—should be about seven months by now. After saving up money from both jobs—Bo workin' with Cooter and Rachel workin' at the Boar's Nest—they managed to move out of Jesse's house and began paying rent at Eve's house, so they sorta have their own place.**

**Okay, so now you're thinkin' where the heck is Eve at? That's simple, just last month before Christmas, she married Sheriff Rosco. So obviously she's been livin' with him and she'll get a monthly payment from Rachel and Bo. Ali's still in Atlanta, workin' as a bartender with her friend Roxie. She ain't been back to Hazzard yet.**

**Well, now that you're caught up, let's get on with the story.

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**Chapter One: Under Arrest**

**Six o'clock AM**

"Bo, can ya hand me that flashlight?" Cooter asked as he lay on a skateboard underneath the Volkswagen Beetle. The car had an oil leak, and the black substance was dripping all over the mechanic's face. "Bo?" he called again, wiping his face with one hand, which only succeeded in spreading the oil out.

He rolled himself out from under the car and picked up his upper body with his hands to look around. He then spotted Bo talking on the telephone with his usual boyish grin on his face. Cooter knew who he was talking to.

"Bo, you can flirt with your wife, my cousin, when ya get home," he told him in a half-joking, half-serious manner. "I need a flashlight."

"Oh, sorry! Hey, hon, I gotta go, I'll see ya when I get off work, okay? I love you, too, bye." He hung up the phone and jogged to the toolbox to retrieve a flashlight.

Cooter shook his head. "In all my years of knowin' y'all, I _never _woulda guessed that you'd be ended up married to one of my kin—especially Rach. Thanks," he added after getting the light from Bo and rolling back under the car.

"More believable than the other cousin marryin' the sheriff, ain't it?"

"I suppose, but at least they knew each other for half-a-year before _they _tied the knot, instead of less than one month. But then, considerin' the circumstances . . ." Cooter let that hang in the air, knowing that Bo knew what he meant. "And to think she's seven months along already!"

Bo smiled. "Yeah, I remember the looks I got when I showed everybody my weddin' ring—and the even more shocked looks when we finally said we were havin' a baby." The blond sighed and looked out the open garage doors into the non-busy streets. "I hope Luke's here when the baby comes. It wouldn't feel right without him here."

"Have y'all heard anythin' lately from my ol' boy?"

"He's written a few times. He's still here in the States, thank God. Of course he's just traini' a bunch of new guys over in Virginia. He hasn't said anything about comin' home yet, though." He rubbed a hand through his thick hair. It was obvious that he missed Luke terribly.

A car pulling up outside broke his thoughts. Bo looked up and saw a dark-colored Rolls-Royce sitting in front of the garage and some man in a dark suit came out.

**Balladeer: Now I _know _he ain't from these parts. See that crease line in them pants?**

"Excuse me!" the stranger called out to Bo, not able to see Cooter. "May I have a word with you?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Bo answered him, a curious look on his face.

"Who's that?" Cooter whispered from under the car.

"Beats me," Bo whispered back, heading towards the man in the dark suit. He hoped that this didn't have anything to do with Luke, money, or anything else that might be considered bad news.

"Can I help ya, mister?" the boy asked once he came close enough to the man, a much taller guy than he realized. "Your car not workin' right?"

"No, the car's fine," the man quickly told him. "I'm looking for a Mr. Davenport. Are you him?"

Before Bo had a chance to answer, Cooter popped up from under the Volkswagen and said, "Nope, that'd be me," with his usual grin. He was wiping his hands with a grease rag as he waited for the stranger to state his business—the man giving the mechanic a look over before clearing his throat.

"Ah, Mr. Davenport," he stated, taking out a wallet from inside his coat, flashing a badge at him. "Detective Yulch, Atlanta division. I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me."

"Why's that?"

"You're under arrest."

Cooter's grin vanished from his face. Bo's jaw dropped. "Under arrest? _For what?_"

"Murder."

**Balladeer: Folks, I don't like where this is goin' _at all_.

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**Seven-thirty AM**

**Balladeer: Now Cooter had to go with the man, regardless whether or not he commited the crime. He was escorted to the Atlanta Courthouse by Detective Yulch and was seated in an interrogation room, which is where we are now.**

Yulch threw a manila folder with some photographs inside of it towards where Cooter was sitting at the table. Cooter gave him a strange look, then opened up the folder to reveal photos of a woman who had been gruesomely murdered. Cooter gagged a few times, putting his fist to his mouth and praying he wouldn't lose his breakfast.

"Summer Caskells, twenty-three year old nurse at the local hospital," Yulch stated as he paced the room. "Head wrapped in plastic to suffocate her while bludgeoned with a hammer."

Cooter looked up with a wild look in his eyes. "I didn't do this! I would _never _do anything like this! There has to be a mistake!"

Yulch didn't answer him. Instead he placed a large yellow envelope on the table for Cooter to see. The mechanic grabbed the envelope, ripped it open and pulled out yet another photo, only this one did not star the murder victim. Cooter placed a hand over his mouth in shock. _The photo was of him_. Or it _looked _like him—remarkably so, as well. Everything was the same it seemed. In the picture, the Cooter-look-alike was exiting out a door, a hammer in his hand.

"That was from the security cameras at the hospital that Miss Caskells worked at—was found dead at." Yulch gave Cooter a sinister grin. "And we got you."

"Dang it, I don't care about this stupid picture! That's not me, it just—_looks _like me . . . a _lot _like me."

"It _is_ you, Mr. Davenport!" Yulch argued with him, determined to get this guy to admit his crime. "We've been searching for months, showing everyone that picture, and somebody finally recognized you—and here we are."

With a clenched jaw, Cooter looked back and forth between the picture of "himself" and the ones of the late Summer Caskells. He raised his eyes at Yulch, who had a self-satisfied grin plastered on his face and who said,

"If I were you, Mr. Davenport—I'd get myself a lawyer. A _good _one."

"Oh, and I know just the person for the job," he muttered, although he wasn't sure how she'd take the news—especially at this hour of the morning. "Can I have my one phone call now?"

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Things ain't lookin' too bright, are they? Stay tuned for more, and PLEASE REVIEW! 


	2. Attorney at Law

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Two: Attorney at Law**

**Back in Hazzard—roughly seven-forty AM**

Rosco had only been outside his patrol car for two seconds and he was already freezing. He tugged his black uniform jacket closer to him and called for Flash to jump out of the car. They had just pulled up in front of his house, which is what the always did at seven-forty in the morning. Eve, his wife, wasn't much of a morning person, and since she wakes up at eight to go to work, Rosco always made sure to sneak back in the house twenty minutes til' eight and make her a pot of coffee so she wouldn't have to go through making it herself. He'd even get her favorite mug and put in the right amount of sugar at the bottom (four _leveled _teaspoons), and then he'd leave before she woke up in her usual "grouchy morning mood". Although they'd only been married a few weeks, the every day ritual became an engraved habit and it _did _manage to make Eve's mornings go better----and if _she _was happy, _everybody _was happy.

Flash jumped and snuggled on the couch while Rosco went into the kitchen. He had his back turned while he was mashing the buttons of the coffee machine when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around him from behind—which would have spooked him except he knew who it was.

"Busted," Eve said in an angelic voice, and he could tell she was smiling when she said it. "Finally caught ya."

"What happened to the grouchy monster voice I usually hear?" Rosco grinned, turning around faster than she could blink and putting his arms under hers to wrap her with. Even without make-up on, messed up hair, and wearing just _his _houserobe, he still thought her extremely lovely.

She chuckled. "After last night? _Nothin' _couldbring out "grouchymonster"after _last night_," she said, starting to mess with his tie. "You ain't goin' back to work right _now, _are ya?"

"Keep this up, and I won't be able to."

She grinned real big. "Can I make it up by lettin' you arrest me for harassin' an officer? Would that count for bein' work?"

"I reckon it'd count, 'cept I couldn't call it in," he replied to her question, getting that "heart in the throat" feeling.

"Honey, you don't _need _any back-up . . ."

_Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!_

The annoying sound of somebody consistently banging on the doorbell seemed to snap the atmosphere in two. Rosco couldn't help but groan and slightly roll his eyes at the interruption. He leaned down to plant a kiss on Eve's lips. "Lemme run them off, then I'll be _right back,_" he promised, giving her another kiss. "Don't move."

Whoever was at the door apparently didn't understand that one only had to ring the bell _once _to get the message across---so far they had surpassed that one ring over two-hundred fold. Rosco tried to fix his tie back but he was so flustered that he couldn't quite get it right. He swung the door open and came face to face with----

"Bo Duke?" he asked in a slightly aggravated voice. "Do you realize what _time _it is?"

"Sorry, Rosco, but this is an emergency!" Bo exclaimed. He gave Rosco a funny look and then gave him one of his famous "Bo-grins". "Was I . . . _interrupting_ somethin'?"

If the sheriff had been a little braver with words he would have said something along the lines of, "Bo, do you remember _your _first month of marriage?", but since Rosco's not that brave, he simply gave Bo a glare and spat out,

"Now you hush---just _hush_. And get that stupid grin off your face . . . as bad as Enos . . ."

Bo held back a laugh. "Sorry there, Rosco, but it's not really you I need to talk to. It's your wife."

**Balladeer: See, Cooter used his one phone call to contact Bo an' explain what was goin' on. See, Cooter's a little afraid of Eve's early mornin' grouchiness, so he had Bo go over to deal with it. Sneaky, huh?

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Eve got so mad when she heard what had happened, she actually clenched her jaw, jumped up from the recliner she had been sitting in and shouted, "_Somebody had the nerve to arrest my baby cousin!"_

"Yeah, but the whole thing's bogus," Bo told her. "They say he murdered some nurse down at the hospital in Atlanta."

"_Unbelievable!_" Eve ranted. She crossed her arms and started pacing back and forth across the living room floor in front of the couch where Bo and Rosco were sitting.If there was any hint that she was in a good mood earlier, it was sure gone now---much to Rosco's disappointment.

"Well, _surely _they don't really think that Cooter did that, do they?" she asked Bo, keeping her eyes ahead of her so that she wouldn't accidentally run into anything while she was on her march.

"I don't know, Cooter said they were pretty derned serious. Said they had a photo of him carryin' the murder weapon out of the front door to the hospital." Bo paused for a minute before he said his next sentence, the main reason why Cooter had sent him over there. "He wants you to be his attorney."

Rosco turned his head and gave him a look. Eve stopped her parade and looked at him also.

"His _attorney_?" Eve asked, not sure if she heard right. "He wants me to be his lawyer?"

"That's what you were before ya moved here, ain't it?" Bo asked her. "Well, who better to defend Cooter than his own cousin?"

"No, no, no, no, no," Eve stammered, shaking a finger at the idea. "I'm not allowed to do that, uh-uh. I have to be hired by a law firm or a courthouse or somethin'. I just can't _waltz_ in and take over a case like that." She ran her hands through her hair, stressed out over the matter.

"Honey, that's no problem," Rosco assured her. "I could get Lulu to hire ya in no time flat."

"You mean you wouldn't mind?" she asked her husband. "You wouldn't mind me leavin' for a while and doin' this?"

"Of course not! Cooter's your cousin after all, and---well, Bo's right. Who better to defend him than you?"

She gave him a starry-eyed look. "Baby, you have any idea how _sweet _you are sometimes?"

Bo cleared his throat and got off the couch. "I think I'll leave now---"

**Balladeer: Y'know, by now ya figure that people would know that in Hazzard, ya don't mess with each other's cousins.**


	3. Welcome Home

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Three: Welcome Home**

The bus rolled to a stop on the dirt road that led to the Duke farm. A young man with bright blue eyes and short dark hair jumped off, a duffel bag swung over his shoulder. As the bus drove off, he waved good-bye to his companions and then made his way towards the house.

Luke Duke hadn't told anybody that he was due back home today. He had wanted it to be a surprise. He couldn't wait to see Uncle Jesse, Daisy, and especially Bo again. Although Bo was a married man now, he'd still have time for fun and driving around in the General with Luke—he hoped.

He hadn't even passed the mailbox yet when he saw the screen door fly open and a beautiful brunette come running across the yard with her arms wide open. Daisy.

"Luke!" she cried happily, leaping into her cousin's welcome arms as he swung around in a circle. "I'm so glad you're home, we've missed you _so _much!"

"Same here, Daisy, same here," he told her as he gave her a tight hug. He looked up and tears almost came in his eyes. "Uncle Jesse," he simply stated, releasing his cousin and going over to give the elderly man a hug of his own.

"Glad to have ya home, son. It's been kinda lonesome not havin' you or Bo runnin' 'round here gettin' into trouble," Jesse said, patting his oldest nephew on the back. "Daisy behaves too well for her own good."

"Hey now, what's so bad about that?" Daisy asked, grinning widely. "Oh, Luke, you haven't seen my engagement ring yet, just _look _at it!" She pranced up to her cousin, proudly showing him the small rock that she wore on her left ring-finger.

Luke whistled. "That's awful nice, Daisy. Enos sure can pick 'em, huh? Congratulations by the way."

"Thank you," she beamed, looking at the ring for millionth time since she first received it.

"So how's everybody else been doin' since y'all last wrote me?" Luke asked as the three of them began walking back towards the house.

"Oh, 'bout the same," Jesse answered. "Rachel's seven months along now. I think they decided to wait until time for the baby to be born to see if it were a boy or girl. Course I don't see why that would matter, you oughta be happy no matter _what _ya get."

Luke smiled. "An' how are the little Coltrane couple handlin' things? I'm actually sorry I missed their weddin'."

"It was beautiful, Luke. They had holly plants and mistletoe for the decor," Daisy said dreamily, more than likely thinking about her own wedding that was coming up in March. "I hope mine's just as romantic."

"I'm sure it'll be perfect," Luke smiled at her. A thought came to him and his face fell a little. "Say, any word from anyone about Ali?"

"You didn't write her any while you were gone?" Jesse asked, opening the door and letting his niece and nephew go inside.

Luke shrugged. "Well, y'all said in one of them letters that she moved to Atlanta the same day I left. So I figured she was just mad at me for that little remark I made at the Boar's Nest that night."

"She left _because _you were leaving," Jesse told him matter-of-factly. "With Rachel married an' her not bein' on good terms with Eve, she didn't have anyone when you left."

The phone started ringing. "I suppose," Luke replied as Jesse quickly grabbed the phone.

"Hello? Oh, hi, Bo."

Luke's eyes got big and his face widened into a smile when he heard that Bo was on the other line. "Tell him I'm here!" he whispered.

Jesse pretended to wave him off. "Slow down, Bo, you're talkin' too fast. Yes, I"m fine, Daisy is too. There's someone here I think you'd like to----what now? Well, what about Cooter, spit it out already! Arrested?"

Luke's smile quickly faded. Daisy stopped daydreaming and got a serious look on her face.

"What?" Jesse continued to converse with Bo. "That's silly, why would he—well, how should _I _know why they say he did somethin' like that?"

"Like _what_?" Luke whispered.

Jesse mouthed the words "Hold on" and kept on talking to Bo. "Who all knows about this? Just Eve an' Rosco? Oh, she's gonna be Cooter's lawyer. How's she gonna do that when she's still Lulu's secretary. I see. All right, Bo, thanks for callin'. Bye."

Jesse hung up the phone. Luke looked about ready to explode with questions.

"What's goin' on? Is Cooter in real big trouble? Why'd he get arrested?"

Jesse sighed before answering. "The Feds think that—they think he killed someone in Atlanta. Said they have a photo of him carryin' the murder weapon out of the hospital it happened in."

"Murder," Daisy repeated to herself, not believing that this had happened.

Luke was outraged. He had not expected on hearing that one of his best friends was being charged with murder on his first day home. "That's insane, Cooter would never do somethin' like that! Photo or not, they've made a big mistake!"

"Now, Luke, don't worry," Jesse told him, although knowing that he would probably worry anyway. "From what I heard, Eve was a derned good lawyer over in Atlanta. She'll think of somethin' to get him outta this."

"But I can't just sit here an' do nothin' though!" Luke insisted. "Whoever's really responsible for this is still runnin' loose out there! An' I gotta hunch that unless the real murderer is caught, Cooter's future is goin' to be behind bars."

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**(sorry so short!)**


	4. Help

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, y'all! And to "**Smithy**", thanks, I did not know that about the death penalty, that might come in handy :) Thanks! No without further ado, here's chapter four!

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**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Four: Help**

**Balladeer: As Rosco had said he would do, he talked his sister Lulu into hirin' Eve as an attorney for the Hazzard Courthouse so it would be legal for her to take Cooter's case to court. After all the documentation was sighed, an' all that jazz, Eve drove herself to Atlanta to pick up her cousin from the jail where he was being held at.**

Cooter sat in the dreary cell, waiting to get bailed out. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. Murder! The very thought of someone thinking that he could be responsible for such a gruesome act was just crazy. About as crazy as him counting the number of bars on his door for thefortieth time since he'd been sent in there.

"Of _course _I paid the bail, geez, ask anybody!" he heard an all-too-familiar voice say in a raised tone, probably to a security guard. "Just 'cause I'm blonde doesn't make me an idiot, now you open this door right now before I pry it open myself!"

The door to the jail section of the courthouse creaked open and Eve's figure came into view, much to Cooter's relief.

"Evie!" he called out, waving his hand through the bars of his cell door.

She spotted him, gave a little shriek, and rushed over to where he was located. "Oh, my poor lil' baby cousin!" she cried, holding his face with her hands as if she hadn't seen him in years. "Guard, open this and let him out this instant."

The guard looked hesitant, fumbling with his keys and then ever so slowly unlocking Cooter's door so that he could exit. "Thanks," Cooter grinned at the guard, who glared back at him.

"Come on, let's get outta here," Eve said, taking Cooter by the arm and leading him out of the jail and into the regular part of the courthouse. "I can't believe this, I honestly cannot," she fussed as they walked down the hall, mainly to herself. "Keepin' my baby cousin locked up in that hell-hole. Got some nerve—" She ran a hand through her hair. "Dammit," she muttered under her breath, pretty much summarizing how she felt about this whole situation. It wasn't very often that she cursed, and this seemed like a good time to let one fly.

They walked out of the main door of the building and into the parking lot without anyone bothering them, fortunately. Eve was _not _in the mood to deal with reporters at the moment.

"You're under my care no, so you'll have to stay an arm's length away from me at all times. Okay, not really, but I have to know where you are at all times," she informed him as she headed straight for her parked tan-colored sedan. "An' seein' how the trial's gonna be in Atlanta, we're goin' to have to stay put until the trial's over. Of course, the trial don't start 'til next week, surprisingly, so we'll have to run back to Hazzard, pack up what's necessary, and come back here."

Cooter gave her a sheepish look. "I'm sorry I dragged ya into this. I really appreciate you helpin' out, y'know. You didn't _have _to come."

She gave him a shocked look. "Cooter Davenport, don't you dare apologize to me for this. You're my favorite cousin, an' hell will have to freeze over before I let some bullyin' Feds try to stick you with murder charges." She enveloped him in a hug, which he returned with tears in his eyes. "Don't worry, I'm gonna get you outta this. If it drives me outta my mind and back again, I'll figure out somethin'."

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Luke pulled up in front of Bo and Rachel's place in Jesse's truck. Bo had the General to himself since Luke had been gone, and the beloved race car was sitting in the driveway, which meant Bo was more htan likely at home. Luke smiled as he remembered the wild-and-free days when he and Bo would race around Hazzard in that car—days when Bo wasn't married. Luke wasn't too sore. He was glad that Bo had found somebody to share his life with. Now if only _he _could do the same. 

He saw Bo peek out the blinds when he heard Luke pull up. The blinds snapped shut and the front door went busting open, Bo flying down the stairs and nearly jumping Luke before he even got out of the truck.

"_LUKE!_" he exclaimed, grabbing his cousin and giving him a huge bear hug. "Oh, Luke, it's so great to see you! Why didn't ya tell us you were comin'!"

"Wanted to surprise ya, I guess," Luke smiled, patting Bo on the back. "Great to see ya, cuz. How's Rachel doin'?"

Bo pointed at the front porch. "Ask her yourself."

Luke looked towards the porch and smiled when he saw his pregnant cousin-in-law trying to make her way down the stairs to see him. "Rach, ya look great," he said, going and gently hugging her so he wouldn't accidentally hurt her or the baby.

"Thanks, Luke," she said in a tired voice, smiling just the same. "You were the last person I expected to see drive up into the yard."

"Daisy and Jesse felt the same way. You okay there, Rach?"

She nodded. "Just tired. Baby's takin' all my energy away."

"Hon, maybe you need to take a nap for a while," Bo suggested. "You wantin' anything back from town?"

"Ummmmm. . . how 'bout . . . a jar of honey and some ice cream. Yeah, that sounds good—honey-covered ice cream."

Luke gave her a disgusted look at the very thought of the combination.

**Balladeer: Hey! That sounds pretty good actually . . . **

Rachel laughed at him then gave Bo a kiss. "You an' Luke have fun. I know y'all have a lot of catchin' up to do."

"All right, hon. You _sure _you want honey and ice cream?"

She lightly slapped his arm. "Get outta here before I decide to make you eat some with me."

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The boys sat in the Boar's Nest in the corner table discussing what had been going on over a couple of cold beers. They mainly talked about babies and training camp, but they had a good time talking about it anyway. By now, Rachel'd had her fill of honey-covered ice cream and was now at work behind the counter while Daisy ran around filling up everybody's orders, stopping ever now and then to talk to Enos, who was by himself at the bar. Luke sighed deeply and decided to bring up what was going on with Cooter. 

"Bo, now you an' I both know that Cooter didn't do anythin' wrong, right?"

"Of course I know."

"An' we both know that the real murderer is out there runnin' scot free, right?"

"Yeah . . ."

"Then you'll understand why I have to go to Atlanta and help figure this mess out."

Bo gave his cousin the blankest look he had ever given him. His jaw dropped several inches and his eyes got big as plates. "No, Luke----no, you just came back to Hazzard! You can't leave so soon!"

"Bo, I have to! Cooter's my best friend next to you, an' he's gotten me outta some big jams before. It would only be fair if I help him clear his name," Luke explained. "It's not like I'm leavin' forever. I'll be back."

"But, Luke, it's just that—just that you just came home. We ain't seen ya in _months_! It would break everyone's heart if you just up and left like this."

"I know," Luke sighed. "But it has to be done. I don't trust any of those detectives they got in Atlanta are goin' to try too hard to find the real killer because they think they already got him. Please understand."

Bo was silent for a minute, gazing into the remains of his beer that he had in his mug. He ran a hand through his hair and replied, "Good luck, Luke. Don't get in any trouble while you're there."

Luke put a hand on his cousin's shoulder. "Thanks, Bo."

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	5. Party of Three

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Five: Party of Three**

**Balladeer: Luke had hitched a ride to town with Jesse, who had to pick up a few groceries for the house. He had already said his good-byes to his uncle, Daisy, and to Bo an' Rachel. He just filled Cooter in on the fact that he was, without a doubt, accompanying him to Atlanta to try and solve the case himself.**

"Luke, I appreciate you wantin' to help, I really do, but I just don't think—"

Luke held up a hand to silence his best friend. "Cooter, ya ain't talkin' me outta this one. You've done plenty of small favors for me over the years, an' I aim to repay you for them all by helpin' you out here. I'm gonna find that killer, Cooter, an' prove ya didn't do it."

"Uh, Luke, that's kinda why I have Eve. _She's _supposed to be gettin' me outta this."

"But she's gonna be in court with you all day, while the real criminal runs free. I'll be the one goin' out into the public tryin' to find this guy while you two do all the courtroom drama. It wouldn't hurt." He gave Cooter a puppy-dog look. "Please, ol' buddy, ol' pal? I even brought my own bag," he added, holding up his duffel bag that he hadn't hardly had time to empty from his trip back from Virginia.

One look at Luke's big blue eyes and Cooter just couldn't find it in his heart to say "no". "Dang it, Luke! All right, fine, you can help."

"Thanks, Coot."

"No, thank _you_."

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"Honey, grab these two bags off the couch when you get through loading those three up!" Eve called out the front door to Rosco, who was at present trying to pack all her luggage up in her car. Flash was trotting around her feet as she ran around the house trying to see if she got everything she needed for however long she would be gone in Atlanta.

"Brownies!" she exclaimed to herself, rushing to the oven in the kitchen when she heard the timer go off. She quickly turned the oven off, grabbed a few potholders and brought the delicious treats to set on the stove.

"You said these two on the couch needed to go?" Rosco shouted from the living room as Eve tried to cut her brownies into equal-sized squares.

"Yeah, just throw 'em in there!" she called out, throwing her cutting knife into the sink and grabbing the plastic wrap to cover the baking pan with. She made a quick run of the house to make positively sure she had everything, grabbed her purse and strolled outside, Flash right at her heels.

"Okay, that's all," she said as she made it to her car. "Brownies are wrapped on the stove, don't eat 'em all in one day. Don't forget about the bills, clean the house, and go to church."

She paused to let her racing mind wind down before she allowed herself to get in the driver's seat. "I think that's about it." She looked at her husband, who had a forlorn look about him. "Sweetie, what's the matter?"

"Oh, nothin'," he said quietly, looking at the ground. "It's just that—it's the first time we'll be separated since we've been together."

Her face softened from the panicked look she'd had all morning, took his head in her hands and pulled him down for akiss and gave him a hug. "You're just too sweet sometimes, y'know that? I'll be back—in a month of two, dependin' on how things go. You can always come visit. I'm gonna call from our hotel so you'll have the number, although I probably won't be there during the day." She gave him another kiss. "You'll be fine, hone," she assured him, straightening his tie a little and smoothing his jacket lapels. "And don't eat all them brownies in one sittin'."

"I heard ya the first time," he smiled.

"That doesn't mean you'll listen. Don't think I don't notice you sneakin' off in the middle of the night to have a bite of whatever it is I made," she grinned, patting his stomach.

Flash was sitting by Rosco's feet and let out a mournful howl. Eve smiled and bent down to scratch her ears. "I'm gonna miss you two, Flash dear. Take care of your daddy for me, all right?"

The dog mumbled some kind of answer.

"Okay, I better go," Eve said, standing up. "Cooter probably didn't take too long to pack anything, knowin' him. I'll call ya when we get down there, all right, baby?"

"All right."

"Take care of yourself," she told him, giving him one last kiss before she left. "I love you. An' keep an eye on Rachel for me."

"I love you, too. An' I will if Bo'll let me ten feet near her."

And with that, Eve took off in her sedan to go pick up her cousin at his garage, leaving Rosco and Flash behind standing on the sidewalk in front of the house. Rosco looked down at his dog, who was still sitting at his feet, and sighed.

"Well, Flash. Looks like it's gonna be just you an' me again for a while."

* * *

Later on that day, after the trio had already left, Bo left the garage for lunch at the Boar's Nest. It gave him a chance to see Rachel more during the day and also to make sure some guy didn't decide to get fresh with her. It seemed not to matter to some men if a woman was married and pregnant or not.

He came in, sat down on a stool, and waited patiently for her to get done serving someone's shot of whiskey. At last she made her way over to him and he got up to place a kiss directly on the mouth. "Busy?" he asked, sitting back down.

"It was earlier, but not now," she answered, looking around the almost emptied bar. "Ooh!" she exclaimed lightly, placing a hand on her stomach.

Bo's heart skipped a beat and he jumped up. "What? What's wrong? You goin' into labor? Do I need to call a doctor?"

Rachel started laughing. "No, I just felt a kick. Here, feel." She grabbed Bo's hand and placed it on her stomach. Like she said, the baby was kicking. Bo got a big grin on hisface and wrapped his hand around Rachel's.

"Seems like Bo Junior's gettin' restless in there."

"We are _not _namin' this baby Bo Junior," she insisted with a smile. "I won't have everybody callin' it B.J. or Bo-Bo. 'Sides, what if it's a girl?"

He pretended to think. "Rachel Junior."

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "I _doubt _it. Stay here, I gotta run to the bathroom. One thing I hate about bein' pregnant, always gotta _go_."

Bo chuckled and watched his wife make it to the bathroom okay without falling over into contractions or anything. He u sed his two pointer fingers as drumsticks to beat the bar with as he sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Well, hi there, Bo Duke," he heard a rather sultry, and familiar, voice say from behind him. He turned his head to come face to face with an old "female acquaintance" named Luanne Watson—a gorgeous raven-haired girl with pale blue eyes and looks to kill. "Been quite a while since I seen you, hasn't it?"

He gave her a smile and a look that he still liked the way she appeared. "I reckon it has been. How've ya been?"

"Oh, y'know, same-ol, same-ol," she told him, looking down at her nails then looking back up at him. "Hey, y'know, I ain't seein' anybody, an' I've got nobody 'round here to hook up with," she said in a pouty little voice. She got closer to him. "I was thinkin' maybe you an' me could—" She ran a finger across his lips. "Pick up where we left off."

Bo's mind drew a blank, trying to get out the words, "Sorry, Luanne, but—hey, y'know, _I'm married!_" but he was interrupted from thinking when he heard the angry voice of a pregnant woman ring out,

"_Beauregard Duke!_"

Bo's head jerked over to the side and he sawa Rachel with both hands on her hips and an extremely angry look on her face.

**Balladeer: No matter what, trouble seems to stick to them Dukes like red on a rose.**


	6. First Day in Atlanta

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Six: First Day in Atlanta**

**Balladeer: After the long drive to Atlanta, the boys an' Eve checked into the two hotel rooms that Eve had already reserved—Eve to herself an' the boys in the other of course. She was rather shocked to see Luke back in town, but she didn't mind in the least that he tag along. As promised, Eve called her "poor darlin' husband" (as she'd been calling him since they left Hazzard) to give him her phone number, should he need it—which he probably would, knowin' him. Nobody had time to rest. Almost as soon as they unpacked, Eve dragged them along to meet with the judge. I have a feelin' that whirlwind of activity is gonna take place over this trial . . . **

Calvin Whitney heard the knock on his chamber door as he was writing down some sort of memo on his notepad. "Come in!" he grumbled loudly, not liking to be disturbed even though he was not busy.

"Judge Whitney?" he heard a familiar female voice say. He stopped what he was doing and peered over his reading glasses to see who the voice belonged to, and then he promptly smiled.

"Miss Willows!" he said in astonishment, taking off the spectacles and rising from his seat to meet her. "What brings you back here, I thought you'd moved?"

"I did," Eve replied, giving the elderly man a hug, then pulling back to hold up her left hand. "And it's _Mrs. Coltrane _now."

He took her hand to look at her rings. "Ah, so I see. Happy I hope?"

"Very."

"Good," he smiled, inviting her to sit down. "What pleasure do I owe this visit then, _Mrs. Coltrane_."

"I'm here on legal business I'm afraid."

"I might have suspected that," the judge sighed, sitting in his own chair. "We miss you down here, Evie. You were rather popular with the prosecution department."

"Turns out I'm gonna be workin' on the defense this time," she told him, placing a fallen strand of hair from her up-do behind her ears. "You're presiding over the murder case involving the hammer-beaten nurse, aren't you?"

"The Caskells case? I should say so."

"It's my cousin, Judge. It's my cousin that they're sayin' killed that woman."

Judge Whitney frowned. "Oh, dear, that's not good. Not at all. But you know that I can't exempt him just because he's a relative to a good friend of mine. I've always like you, Eve, you do a fine job without letting the system corrupt you. But if the evidence points at your cousin—whom I'm guessing you are representing in court—I will have no choice but to either put him away or have him receive the injection."

Her heart stopped hearing the part about the injection. The fact that her own kin was in danger of being killed himself over something he didn't do appalled her.

"That is, of course, unless you find evidence that proves he's innocent."

"Judge Whitney?" a man called from the door. The judge looked up and Eve turned around to face—

"Nick?" she asked in disbelief, nearly falling out of her chair.

Nick gave her a rather curious look himself. "Eve?"

Eve stared at Judge Whitney. "What is _he_ doing here?"

"Well, Evie, it turns out that—that is I mean to say, that Mr. Rogan here—" the old judge sighed, not sure how to put it delicately. "He's representing the prosecution in the Caskells case."

**Balladeer: Now how do ya like that? Folks, that there is Nick Rogan, Eve's ex-husband. This trial is _really _goin' to be interestin' _now._**

Eve gave her ex a wide-eyed look—Nick was also a lawyer, but she had _never _seen him work locally in the Atlanta courthouse. A nasty feeling built up in her stomach as if she were going to vomit. She shakily picked up her purse and began to head out the door.

"I—I better go," she stammered, pushing her way past Nick and began to head out the door.

She was half-way down the hallway when she heard the man she loathed more than anyone calling her name. She wouldn't have stopped had he not run ahead of her and blocked her path.

"Get outta my way, Nick," she growled, not daring to look him in his enchanting eyes that fooled everyone that looked into them.

"Look, I know it's a shock to see me," the handsome, dark-haired man that sort of resembled Cary Grant told her. "I wasn't exactly expecting to see you either." He stepped closer to her. "It's been a real long time . . ."

"Not hardly long enough," she bit, stepping back. "I would've preferred never to see you again as long as I lived."

He shrugged. "Okay, so the marriage was rocky."

"Rocky? Ha! It was an _avalanche_ of dishonesty, insensitivity, and cold-heartedness—all on _your _part I might add. Now will you excuse me, I _must _be going."

He grabbed her arm to keep her from leaving, an icy feeling spreading from her arm to the tips of her toes. She wished very much that she hadn't told Luke and Cooter to wait downstairs in the lobby while she talked with the judge. Cooter for sure would've loved to slam his fist into the man that made his cousin's life miserable for the year that they were married—and Lord knows what Rosco would've done if he'd been there.

"Why don't you tell me why you're here?" he asked in a low voice, peaked with curiosity.

Her eyes narrowed and she ripped her arm free of his grasp. "If you must know, I'm here on behalf of a cousin of mine who has asked me to represent me in a murder trial—the Caskells case."

He raised his eyebrows. "Ah, so your cousin killed the nurse."

"He didn't kill _anybody. _And I'm gonna prove it."

Nick smiled in spite of himself and chuckled.

**Balladeer: I've only known the guy less than five minutes, and _already _I don't like 'im.**

"Eve, no offense, but as good as you were on the prosecution, I doubt you'll be equally good on defense."

"We'll just have to see about that, won't we?" she snapped, turning on her heel and huffing towards the stairs to leave the building.

Behind her, Nick called out in a sarcastic tone, "Glad to see you're still a charming little angel. The men must love you."

Against her better judgment, she turned back around and held up her left hand. "I suppose they must. Otherwise, I wouldn't be wearing this wedding ring, now would I?" She jerked her hand down. "An' it's _Mrs. Coltrane _to you, _Mr. Rogan_."

Nick, whose jaw was dropped at her comments, was very surprised that she had built up the nerve during the past few years to speak back at him. He was also rather surprised to hear she'd remarried. Eve gave him a grim smile then bolted for the stairs.

* * *

Cooter had a rather mean look on his face and he slammed a fist into his open palm. "I would've given anything to smack that jerk right in the jaw." 

"I know, but that wouldn't have looked too good to be hittin' the guy that's tryin' to prove that you're _guilty_, now would it?" Eve replied as she walked out of the courthouse with Cooter and Luke.

"Kinda odd coincidence," Luke noted. "Ex-husband versus ex-wife during trial of ex-wife's cousin. That's a real head-liner right there."

Eve smiled at Luke's comment, but then as she approached her car her smile fell and her eyes widened into a look of anger and horror all at the same time. She jogged to the sedan and put her hand on a rather large dent that somebody had placed on the back bumper while trying to parallel park behind her.

"_Urrrrrgh_!" she growled out loud, kicking the back tire. "Only been in Atlanta one day an' already someone's done scuffed my car!" she muttered angrily to herself on her way to the driver's side to unlock it. She then noticed that Cooter had burst into an array of giggles and Luke was hiding a smile behind his hand.

"Now what is so danged funny?" she asked, irritated over the dent _and _the fact that they were supposedly laughing at her.

"Someone's done _scuffed _my car?" Luke repeated, unable to hide his smile any longer and burst into laughter along with Cooter, who thought he was going to pass out from not being able to breathe.

Eve gave them a look of annoyance then chuckled herself. "Shut up, before I scuff _y'all. _An' don't you dare tell Rosco I stole one of his catchphrases." She got this far-off look in her eye when she mentioned him and sighed to herself. It wouldn't be the first time that she'd wish he was there with her instead of all the way back home in Hazzard County.


	7. Trouble on the Homefront

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Seven: Trouble on the Homefront**

"Rachel, I've been tryin' to tell ya—I didn't do anythin'!" Bo was pleading as Rachel was slinging his clothes out of their bedroom dresser. "She came onto _me_! I was gonna tell her I was married when you came out of the bathroom!"

"What about while I was still in there though?" she shrieked, throwing a pair of socks at his head, which he ducked to miss. "You were flirtin' with her when I wasn't around!"

"No, I wasn't!" he defended himself, ducking again this time for a pair of boots being chunked across the room. "Rach, will ya calm down? You're goin' to hurt yourself!"

"You've already done that for me!" she insisted, hurling underwear and more socks onto the floor. "The nerve! Flirtin' with that hussy while your pregnant wife is tryin' to relieve herself!"

_Temper tantrums must run in the family!_ Bo thought to himself as he escaped the house and out to the General Lee, remembering all the times he'd seen Eve fly off the handle and the one time their sister Ali had slapped Luke across the face before he left for Virginia.

* * *

Jesse was stirring up a pot of possum stew that he was fixing on the stove. He picked the spoon up, blew on it, and took a sip. After doing so, he made a face of disgust. "Needs more salt," he murmured, reaching for the shaker sitting beside the stove.

"Uncle Jesse, you ain't paying any attention to me," Bo spoke up, sitting at the kitchen table. "Rachel's throwin' my stuff out an' won't let me explain what happened!"

Not taking his eyes off the pot, Jesse replied, "That's your problem. You're tryin' to explain how this ain't your fault, but that ain't gonna work. When ya do _that, _she'll just think you're lyin' to cover your tracks." He placed the spoon on a napkin and then turned to sit down beside his youngest nephew. "The best thing to do is just apologize."

"But I didn't—"

"It don't matter, _she _thinks ya did somethin' an' her feelin's are hurt. Unless ya say you're sorry, she ain't gonna listen to anything else ya have to say."

"But Uncle Jesse—"

"Don't you _'But Uncle Jesse'_ me, get on home an' play like it was your fault." Bo didn't move. "Well, go on! Just 'cause you're married an' ain't livin' under my roof anymore, don't mean I still can't take ya to the barn an' whoop ya, now get goin'!"

"Yes, sir," Bo replied, obediently getting up and leaving the house.

Jesse shook his head. "Crazy kids. Gotta tell 'em how to do _everything_."

* * *

Rachel was outside on the porch swing, rubbing her stomach. "Thanks for comin' over here by the way. I know the last thing ya wanted to do today was sit out here with your pregnant sister-in-law an' listen to her complain 'bout her bonehead husband."

"Oh, tiddly-tuddly, it's no big deal," Rosco told her, sitting next to her on the swing at a safe distance away. Flash was lying down sideways in his lap fast asleep. "'Sides, your sister told me to keep an eye on ya, so I reckon I'd better do it."

She smiled. She knew that those two would do anything for each other, no questions asked—even if it meant babysitting a pregnant little sister. She sighed to herself and leaned her head back against the swing.

"You an' Eve ever have a fight?" she asked out of curiosity, expecting the answer to be "no." She'd never seen them exchange a single cross word between each other.

Rosco looked out at the open lawn with sad eyes. "Once. A few months ago."

"_Really_?" Rachel asked with wide eyes. "_You two _had a fight an' I didn't hear about it?"

**Balladeer: Hey, I didn't hear about it either!**

"She didn't make a big deal after it got settled," he explained, rubbing one of Flash's ears gently as so not to wake her. He smiled a little bit. "It was kinda like what you an' Bo had a spat over, actually." The smiled faded. "A few years ago, I met this girl through one of them computer datin' services named Sue Ann. We talked for about a month, an' I thought we had somethin' real goin' between us. One day outta the blue she shows up with a suitcase an' talks me into marryin' her—the next day. I didn't really like the idea, I wanted to wait a few more months, but she threatened to leave if I didn't do it when she wanted to, so like an idiot I went ahead an' married her the next day."

He sighed. "Turns out, she was just usin' me. While everybody was at the weddin', her _real _husband was robbin' the bank. Of course they got caught, and needless to say I got the whole thing annulled after only one hour of marriage."

Rachel's jaw was dropped. "Good Lord, that's awful. An' Evie got ticked off over that?"

"It was mostly that she was scared that I'd drop her the same way, really. We didn't have a full-fledged _fight _or nothin' like that. After a few hours, she calmed down an' decided to just let sleepin' dogs lie. After all, she hadn't seen any signs of me sneakin' around on her, not that I ever would, an' she had no reason to think that I'd do anything like that to her."

"So what you're sayin' is that there's gonna be "ghosts" from Bo's romantic past that might show up now an' again, but they ain't gonna mean anything to him. Right?"

Rosco thought about it for a second. He didn't realize his story had a point at all, to tell the truth; he thought he was just using up the oxygen. But he nodded and said, "Yeah, you can put it that way."

She flashed a smile at her brother-in-law and said, "Thanks, Rosco."

He gave her a small smile as a silent "You're welcome."

Out of nowhere, the sound of an engine revving came into hearing range and the sight of an orange race-car came zooming into view. Bo slammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt beside Rosco's patrol car, lightly hitting the passenger side of it. Rosco tensed up as he saw the two collide.

"Always _someone _scuffin' _somebody's _car 'round here," he muttered, gathering Flash in his arms and trying to get off the swing. "Bye, Rachel."

"Bye," she said, watching Bo run past the sheriff heading to his car (to whom he said a small 'hello' to) and hop up the stairs to where she was sitting.

"Rach," Bo began, shoulder heaving from the fast drive home. "I wanna apologize."

She blinked at him. "For what?"

He gave her a confused look. He didn't know if it was the fact she was a girl or that she was pregnant that was causing these mood swings of hers. "For—y'know, for earlier. I shouldn't have been talkin' to Luanne in the first place. I'm sorry."

Rachel gave him a smile. "No, Bo, _I'm _sorry. I should've realized that you've had previous girlfriends that you're liable to run into every now an' then." She held her arms up, signaling that she needed help getting up off the swing. He took a hold of her waist so she could grab his shoulders and he hoisted her up to her feet.

She gave him a kiss. "I love you, Bo."

He smiled real big at her. "I love you, too, Rachel."

Rachel suddenly grabbed her swollen tummy and shuddered almost violently, a moan of pain escaping her lips. Bo's smile turned into a fearful look and he struggled to hold his wife up.

"Rachel, are you all right?" he asked frantically, his heart beginning to pick up the pace.

"I don't know," she said softly, still holding her stomach. She almost doubled over in pain as another contraction surged through her. "I—I think I'm goin' into labor."

"Oh, Lord," Bo muttered. She was only seven months along. He hoped this wasn't a bad sign. "Well, come on, we gotta get to the hospital," he urged her.

Despite her pain, she managed to give him a look of disbelief. "You expect me to fit through the General's window? Are you mad? I'd be better off _walkin' _to the hospital than the chance of you fittin' me through there!" She winced as she felt another contraction. "Why do ya think I have Daisy pick me up for work?"

Bo looked around helplessly then sat Rachel on the porch steps and began to chase after Rosco's car and waving his arms for him to stop. Bo finally saw the brake lights come on and the car began to back up to where he was standing.

**Balladeer: Remember the good ol' days when it was the other way around—Bo _runnin' away _from Rosco?**

"Good grief, what're you kids arguin' over _now_?" he asked, sticking his head out the window, a hand on his hat to keep the wind from blowin' it off.

"Rachel's in labor!" Bo spat out.

Now it was Rosco's turn to panic. "Oooh–ooooh, _labor_! You mean she's—she's havin' the baby?"

"Yes, an' she can't fit in the General, we need to use your car!"

"_My _car? My _car_? _OH_, you need _my car_!" he stuttered, reality finally setting in. "Hurry up an' get in here then, I'll have y'all at the hospital in two shakes of a tail!"

"Thanks, Rosco! Just come on back to the house an' I'll load 'er up!" Bo hurriedly exclaimed, taking off running towards the house.

"Kheekhee, a baby! I love it, I love it!" Rosco grinned widely as he turned the car around.


	8. Baby Duke

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Eight: Baby Duke**

Bo was carrying Rachel through the lobby of the hospital towards the receptionist desk, carrying Rosco in tow behind him. At the first sign of a nurse, Bo started screaming,

"My wife's in labor, you have to help her!"

Almost immediately, doctors and nurses crowded around Rachel and sat her on a hospital bed.

"How far along is she?" a nurse asked Bo as the doctors helped him place her gently on the bed.

"Seven months!" Bo answered. "Her name's Rachel Duke, an' I'm her husband Bo."

The nurse began scribbling on a clipboard. She pointed her pen at Rosco. "Are you Rachel's father?"

The sheriff puffed himself up, a little insulted at the question. "I most certainly am not, I'm her brother-in-law!"

The nurse paused to stare at the middle-aged man for just a brief second, probably thinking that Bo and Rosco were brothers and was trying to figure out how that was possible. She shook her head and began asking more questions.

"Is she allergic to any kind of medication?"

"Not that I know of," Bo answered, getting fidgety as someone began placing an IV in Rachel's arm. Someone turned her on her side and stuck a shot in her spine, drawing a slight cry from Rachel. Bo started panicking. "What are they doin' to her?"

"An epidural, it eases the pain of delivery," the nurse spoke calmly.

"I'm gonna call your uncle an' Daisy," Rosco whispered, placing a hand on Bo's shoulder as he left. Bo simply nodded, not in much mood to converse right now.

"All right, Mr. Duke, follow us please to the delivery room and let's see if we can get that baby out," the nurse smiled, tucking her clipboard under her arm and escorting him down the hallway where the doctors had begun to rush Rachel.

"She's six and a half centimeters!" a doctor called out. "Everyone get ready, we're havin' ourselves a baby!"

Bo sat in a chair beside Rachel's bed and held her hand, which she squeezed as hard as she could. She couldn't feel any pain but the pressure the baby was causing was killing her. Another contraction hit and she groaned as she felt the pressure increase.

"Contractions are a minute apart," another doctor called out, putting a face mask on.

"Seven centimeters!"

Rachel was sweating furiously. "Bo, I'm scared—"

"It's okay, Rach, you're doin' great. Just breathe in an' out, in an' out."

The doctor got into position. "I see the head crowning! Get ready everyone. Okay, Rachel, now just push. Push!"

Rachel squeezed Bo's hand, gritted her teeth and obeyed the doctor's orders. It seemed impossible. She was already out of breath. She hoped this wouldn't last all night. A nurse began wiping a rag across her forehead to help absorb the sweat and to cool her off.

"Come on, Rachel," the doctor said in a calm voice. "I can just see the eyebrows, keep pushing."

"You can do it, baby," Bo urged her.

Rachel pushed as hard as she could. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally no longer felt pressure and she let out a gasp of relief. She released her grip on Bo's hand and she felt Bo kiss her forehead.

"Congratulations, you two," the doctor announced as he held the reddish baby in a towel. "A beautiful baby girl."

Tears of joy ran down Rachel's face. She couldn't believe that she had finally had the baby.

"So much for Bo Junior," she whispered to Bo.

"Maybe next time," he grinned, giving her another kiss. "What're we namin' her?"

"Chelsea," she said in a tired voice. "I like the name Chelsea."

"We'll get her cleaned up and weighed," a nurse said. "You'll both get to see her very soon."

* * *

Rachel and Bo slept peacefully that night in the hospital room, relieved that the anticipation of the baby's coming had passed and that everything seemed to be okay regardless that Chelsea was born two months early. Jesse and Daisy had come by to visit after getting Rosco's call and they all held little Chelsea Duke in turn. Enos had even dropped in to see the new addition. Rosco looked as if he would have _loved_ to hold her but, for some reason Bo couldn't figure out, he denied the offer and left. 

The new parents were sound asleep, Rachel in the bed and Bo on the visitor's couch, when a doctor knocked on the door. Bo grunted awake, slipped on a t-shirt, and went to answer. It was the doctor that delivered Chelsea—Dr. Alan Finley.

"Doc?" Bo asked, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm sorry to wake you both," Dr. Finley apologized with a rather upset expression on his face. "But I'm afraid we have some disturbing news about your daughter."

**Balladeer: I just _knew _somethin' was gonna go wrong.**

* * *

Dr. Finley stood by the bed while Bo sat beside Rachel, who was now awake. 

"At first, everything appeared normal with Chelsea, as they usually do. But during the night we noticed that she was turning blue while crying and that her blood pressure was rising."

Rachel put a hand over her mouth and squeezed Bo's hand. Bo asked, "What does that mean? What's wrong with her?"

"I should probably give you a crash course in infant hearts before explaining the problem. In the womb, the fetus receives oxygen from the mother so it has no need for its lungs until birth. The oxygenated blood from the mother bypasses the lungs by going through an opening between the two atria called a foramen ovale. That way the fetus immediately receives the oxygenated blood. When the child is born, the lungs inflate and the baby can take in its own oxygen. This causes a pressure gradient between the two atria and the foramen ovale normally closes up due to this pressure on its own.

"In Chelsea's case however, her foramen ovale has failed to close up on its own. _Some _blood is able to go from the right atrium to the lungs, but since the foramen ovale is still open, a lot of that oxygenated blood keeps returning from the left atrium to the right and keeps making the loop through the lungs without ever leaving the body. In simple terms, she's slowly suffocating. It might go own for decades, appearing to be asthma, but the best thing to do is to go ahead and go into surgery."

Rachel had tears running down her face. Bo gulped before asking, "What can you do?"

"The best thing to do is go into surgery. We'll measure the diameter and circumference of the opening and patch it up with an alternative substance. I, however, am not allowed to perform the surgery seeing how I am not a cardiac surgeon. I need your permission to allow a colleague of mine, Dr. Larry Reynolds, to operate on Chelsea."

"Yes, of course we give permission!" Rachel burst out. "Anything to save our baby!" Bo nodded in agreement.

"Very well. I'll send Dr. Reynolds to meet with you and discuss the matter further."


	9. The People Vs Cooter Davenport

**A/N: Thanks everyone for the many reviews, they're what keeps me goin'. My my, everyone's already fond of the little baby. In case anyone's wondering, I'm in college and I took a course last summer about all kinds of different defects, diseases,medical conditions, etc.All right, here's chapter nine for y'all!

* * *

**

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Nine: _The People Vs. Cooter Davenport_**

The courthouse was filled to the brink. The first day of the trial _The People Vs. Cooter Davenport_ had not yet begun. Eve was seated beside her cousin, both dressed professionally. Cooter kept glancing around at the crowded room, tugged nervously at his collar, and wiped his brow. The jury in particular was making him sweat bullets. Eve was perfectly fine; she'd been in this very room dozens of time and she was used to the crowd. Luke was seated on the first row behind them. He was only there to try and get a basic understanding of what they were dealing with before attempting to try and find the real murderer.

At last, an officer announced, "Court is now in session! All rise for Judge Whitney!"

Everyone in the courtroom stood in reverence to the elderly judge, who was making his way out of his chambers and up into the podium. Once he had seated, the rest of the audience sat as well.

Cooter looked about ready to lose his breakfast. Eve gave him a small smile and placed a hand over his to calm him. She looked over at the prosecution, Nick Rogan, who smirked and gave her a wink. She glared at him and turned her head towards the judge.

_The die is cast_, she thought to herself.

* * *

Nick had a giant billboard that he was using to show the pictures of the late Summer Caskells—Article A. Like everyone had been saying, the girl's head had been wrapped in a plastic bag and then beaten with a hammer. There were even close-ups of the hammer prints embedded in her school. Cooter couldn't hardly look at them, but Eve didn't have a problem with it—she was used to observing pictures like those. She took a good hard look at the dead girl's face and made a mental note about something. 

"As the jury can see," Nick was saying as he paced the floor. "The victim was caught, choked by a plastic bag, and then while still alive she was assaulted by force with the hammer." He glared at Cooter and pointed at him. "By _that _man!"

Eve stood up almost immediately. "Objection! Leading the jury without sufficient evidence."

The judge banged the podium with his gavel. "Sustained. Mr. Rogan, please try to control yourself."

"My apologies, your Honor. I have all the evidence I need to place Mr. Davenport at the scene," Nick continued, going to his desk and grabbing an envelope. "I'd like to bring this photo into court as Article B. Behold, the defendant carrying a hammer out of the hospital as caught by a security camera."

Everybody began to murmur about this new piece of evidence, although it wasn't new to Eve, Cooter, or Luke. Nick showed the picture to the judge.

"If I may show the jury up close, your Honor."

Judge Whitney nodded, allowing the action to be done. Nick handed the photo to the head of the jury who would then pass it on to the next person beside him.

"As you can see, members of the jury, the defendant is very much so at the scene, carrying the murder weapon. It is only obvious that he is the one that committed the crime."

The jury finished with the photo and then Nick picked it up to show it to Eve, knowing she'd be interested.

"Are you right or left-handed?" Eve asked him in a quick whisper after Nick pluckedthe pictureout of sight. Cooter twiddled the fingers of his right hand as a response.

"Mrs. Coltrane, do you care to call a witness?" Judge Whitney asked once Nick was done with his evidence.

"Indeed, your Honor. I call Detective Peter Yulch to the stand."

* * *

Yulch was seated in the witness seat, looking perfectly comfortable. Eve was pacing in front of him. 

"You're the one that was in charge of investigating the Caskells murder, correct?" she began, remembering to use proper English and not use the lazy Southern drawl that she (and everyone else she knew) used a daily basis.

"That is correct."

"And these pictures of the deceased were taken by one of your men?"

"Correct."

"Can you look at these pictures and tell me which side of the face is the side the wounds are on?"

Yulch raised himself somewhat in his seat. "The left side-----or rather _her right_ side."

"So you're saying the girl was beaten on the right side of her face?"

"I suppose so, yes."

Eve raised up her left hand. "If I were hit you with my left hand, I'd hit you on _your _right side of your face, correct?"

Yulch winced a little at the thought of the woman actually punching him. "Yes, that would only make sense."

"If I may involve the defendent in a short demonstration," Eve said to the judge.

"You may."

Eve walked to the desk grabbed an empty notepad, which she had to show the jury to prove that it _was _blank, then instructed her cousin to write his name with his left hand. It took about five minutes, be her got 'er done (although it was extremely sloppy) and Eve passed that around the jury as Nick had done with the photo.

"My client is a right-handed man," Eve began to explain. "He would have had a difficult time focusing his left hand and aiming it on someone's face with excessive force, wouldn't you say Detective?"

The detective didn't know quite what to say to that.

"Yulch, answer the question," the judge prodded.

"Yes, I'm sure it would."

_Thank you, Atticus Finch_, she thought cunningly to herself. Whoever knew that a childhood hero would come to her aid.

"No further questions." She glanced briefly at Nick. "Your witness."

Nick stood up, straightened his tie, and approached the bench. "Detective, you say the wounds were on the victim's right? Wouldn't it be possible that the victim were lying face up on the ground, suffocating, and the murderer kneeling behind her head in a way so that he would be able to strike her right side with his right hand? As if she were upside down to him?"

"Yes, it's possible."

Nick gave Eve a brief look as if to say, "Checkmate. "No further questions."

_You damned dirty ape_, she heard Charlton Heston scream in the back of her mind.

* * *

Eve pushed Cooter along the hallway, Luke right behind them. Court was over for the day and would continue in two days time.Eve looked up ahead and saw a large crowd of reporters swarming outside. _Great_, she thought. 

"Stay close to me, both of ya," she said in a serious voice. "These people are like leeches, waiting to suck ya dry of information. If they ask ya anything, don't say a word. Let me do the talkin', of which I won't do any myself."

Before they even got to the door, the reporters began screaming the questions. Eve blocked them out. She'd learned that art her second year of work. Just ignore them and they seem to shut up and focus on someone that _will _talk. And if she knew Nick Rogan, he wouldn't talk either.

At last they managed to survive the crowd and rushed to get inside Eve's car, which sped off towards the hotel quick as lightening.


	10. The Heart of the Matter

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Ten: The Heart of the Matter**

Dr. Reynolds consulted with Bo and Rachel about the severity of the situation with their daughter, Chelsea. Rachel was still in the bed resting after having the baby, Bo still with her.

"Now, you must understand that the procedure is very difficult, especially on a child. Even more so with a premature infant. She only weighs a little more than five pounds, and her heart is very delicate and tiny. My main concern is that she won't be able to handle the surgery and could possibly bleed to death. Having just been born, her immune system may not be able to protect her against any air-borne particles floating about the room.

"If we are able to patch up the opening without any difficulties, however, I have no reason to believe that she should live a long healthy life just like any other normal child."

Rachel wiped some tears from her eyes. Bo asked, "How soon can ya get started with the operation?"

"Unfortunately, I have other patients that need attending to besides Chelsea. I won't be able to fit her into the schedule until next week—Monday perhaps. The situation isn't so big an emergency that it need be done immediately. Many adults grow up with this defect and don't discover it until their mid-thirties or forties. But since we detected it early on with Chelsea, I'm determined to go ahead and fix the problem to prevent further difficulties. I'd like to keep her in the hospital until that time, to monitor her and to make sure that she doesn't become ill from the cold outside. If it is all right with you, of course."

Bo looked at Rachel, who nodded. "Yes," she told him. "Keep her as long as you have to, anything to help with this."

* * *

That night at the hotel seemed rather quiet. Eve felt terrible that her muse, the 'great Atticus', had seemed to fail her as far as the left hand-right hand theory seemed to go. Upside down victims indeed! Only Nick Rogan would pull a fast one like that. The jury seemed to fall for it. Now she had to figure out a way to get them to fall _out _of it. 

Eve went out from her room and paid a visit to the boys. She knew Cooter would be feeling rather down, and she was correct. Cooter was rather somber looking as he sat on his bed, Luke standing over him trying to cheer him up.

"Come on, Cooter, it was only the first day," Luke tried to tell him. "Things never go smoothly on the first day. Things'll perk up."

"Let's hope so," Eve said as she walked in and shut the door. "I can't believe the nerve of----never mind. Let's just go down to the dining room and grab somethin' to eat, I know we're all hungry."

Cooter didn't move from where he was. He was terribly upset.

"Cooter, dear, there's no reason to sit there an' starve to death. Get up before I drag ya out the door."

Her cousin forced himself up and headed out the door without even waiting for the other two. Eve didn't say anything about it, she didn't blame him for being sullen. She glanced over at Luke, who was still standing in the room.

"Care to join us?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I'm not too hungry, thanks."

She smiled, then she pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket and gave it to him. "This is the address to _The Night Owl_, the club where Ali works. I thought you might like to drop in an' visit while you were in town." She gave him a little wink,then turned to head out the door after Cooter.

* * *

_The Night Owl_ was lit up with neon on the outside, a blinking image of an owl drinking a martini then falling down, then getting up again before the animation started all over from the beginning. Jazz music could be heard coming from the inside, which was dark save for the small lamps that lit a few tables. The dance area was a little more lit, but only enough to be able to see the person you were dancing with's face and perhaps the people right beside you. Eric Carmen's _Hungry Eyes _played throughout the club. 

Wealthy businessmen puffed on their cigarettes, the smoke hazily spreading through the building and giving the place a mysterious hazy look. Some of the cheaper customers were joking about at their tables, apparently drunk. A couple in the back corner were making out, getting a reprimand from one of the waitresses who told them sharply to go upstairs to one of their bedroom accommodations that they rented out nightly to the customers that were either too drunk to go home or too lustful to _wait _to get home.

Ali Willows was cleaning up the bar area where she was working. She picked up a few receipts from the gentlemen that she had served a little more than an hour ago that had five dollars total sitting beside them. That would be her tip for her service and she stuffed the bills in her tight black leather pants. That was the required uniform—tight black leather pants with little black heels along with a satiny, sleeveless black top.

As she was doing this, some intoxicated fellow halfway fell over the bar. He had a goofy appearance about him, as most drunks do, his clothes a bit disheveled.

"Hey . . . ya in'trested in a lil' dirrrrty dancin' . . ."

Ali smiled, lowering her eyes, and pushed the man up straight to where he wouldn't be breathing whiskey in her face. "Darlin', even Patrick Swayze couldn't get away with that line."

"How 'bout me?" she heard a deep voice say from the side.

"Hey, who're _you_," the drunk man said, squinting his eyes in the darkness to see who it was. "I was . . . I was here first, y'know." He almost tripped over himself and grabbed the bar to hold himself up.

Luke turned his head so his face could be seen. Ali's eyes got so wide, you could almost see right through to the back of her head.

"Luke?" she asked in a puzzled manner.

The drunk looked back and forth between the two, having gotten confused over the matter. He thumped his hat with a finger at Luke then turned to leave, only he fell flat on his face in a drunken unconsciousness. Nobody rushed to help him. Luke stepped over the man so he could get near Ali, who was still flabbergasted.

"Long time, no see, huh?" she chuckled nervously, wringing her hands together. "So, um, how've ya been? When'd ya get home?"

"Just a few days ago," he answered, now sitting in the stool in front of her. He observed her outfit, the appreciative look in his eye not requiring an explanation. "Y'know 'bout your cousin don't ya?"

"Cooter? Yeah, I heard some stuff on the news. Ridiculous, huh? But Evie's his lawyer, she'll fix it in no time."

"I'm not so sure. Prosecution seems pretty tough---ex-husband tough."

"Nick's alow-life, he'll shrivel once it's obvious Cooter didn't do it. Let's talk about somethin' else, this is depressin' me. Did ya see Rachel while you were home?"

He shifted in his seat. "Yeah, she's pretty big."

**Balladeer: Remember, they don't know she's had the baby yet.**

Luke cleared his throat and added, "Why'd ya leave Hazzard?"

She was so shocked at the question that she didn't have an answer to it. She'd open her mouth to say something, change her mind, and close it again.She was beginning to look like a fish the way she kept doing that.

"Don't tell me it was because I made ya made that night. Somethin' more than that had to run ya off."

Ali blushed. "I meant to apologize for hittin' ya before ya left, but I was too scared to.Then I figured you were mad at me anyways for slappin' ya, that it'd be no goodto apologize. And thenyou were leavin' an' with Rachel married, I didn't have anyone to talk to or hang out with anymoreso I decided to just head on back here while I could. That's why I left. Sheer loneliness I suppose."

She sorta laughed and ran a hand through her short brown hair. It wasn't quite as short as it had been, but it only went so far to cover half her ears. "Kinda dumb, huh? Heck, I didn't even go to my own sister's weddin', that's how estranged I've been. Both of 'em would either kill me for bein' away for so long or suffocate me with hugs."

"Allison Willows!" a heavy-set red-haired woman, (don't worry, she wasn't wearing any leather), called out from the other end of the bar.

"Great," Ali muttered. Her boss.

"Stop picket fencin' with the customers an' get back to work!"

Ali looked a little sheepish. Luke seemed to understand that it was time for him to go.

"Nice talkin' to ya," he said, getting up to leave. Ali grabbed his hand before he got out too far. "I'll see ya later." He glanced at the boss lady. "Hopefully when _she's _not around."

* * *

Rachel was allowed to go home the next day—it was heartbreaking that she couldn't bring Chelsea with her. She had been so eager to rock her to sleep in the middle of the night, humming lullabies, fixing bottles, changing diapers . . . but now she'd have to wait. Oh, it seemed so strange to enter the empty house without having a child to introduce it to. 

"Everything seemed so perfect durin' the delivery," she said sadly as she sat on their bed. "Like it was all going to be all right. But now, the whole thing seems ruined. Why did this have to happen to _our_ baby?"

She started crying, covering her face with her hands. Bo reached to give her a big hug, trying to calm her. "It's okay, Rach. Dr. Reynolds said things would be all right once the operation was over."

"But what if somethin' goes wrong?" she sniffed. "What if she doesn't make it through the operation? She's so tiny . . . you know, you held her. Her nerves might not be able to take it."

She started crying even more at the fact that Chelsea might not live through surgery. All Bo could do was sit there and hold her, as if she were a baby herself.


	11. Room to Breathe

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Eleven: Room to Breathe**

**January Thirtieth, Seven-thirty PM**

It rained all the next day. Tomorrow was the set date for the next part of the trial. Eve was busy trying to think of her next move in court, so Luke kept Cooter occupied by hanging out with him in the downstairs arcade, watching a few movies, talking about guy stuff—anything to help keep his mind of the tomorrow.

As much as Cooter appreciated his best friend's attempts at putting his mind at ease, the mechanic just couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if they _lost_. Of course he didn't doubt that his cousin could break him free of this, but his nagging mind kept telling him that he was either going to rot in jail or get stuck with the needle. He tried not to show his worry in front of Luke, not wanting _him _to worry. Truth was, Luke already knew. He just didn't say anything about it so not to embarrass him.

"So, uh, how'd Ali take to seein' ya again?" Cooter asked, as they laid in their respective beds staring up at the ceiling.

Luke shrugged. "I dunno. I figure she was a bit surprised."

"Reckon she wants to see ya again?"

He started laughing. "How the heck should I know? Can't ever tell with girls—especially that one."

"Well, she's my cousin. I guess she would be hard to get." He shifted a little bit to get more comfortable. "Hey, Luke—y'know, you've been stuck in this hotel with me all day, why don't you go find Ali and _do _somethin'?"

"Aw, Cooter, I can't leave ya up here by yourself. I'd feel terrible."

"I feel terrible makin' ya stay up here bein' bored. Go on an' have some fun while you're up here, for Pete's sake. Not like I'm gonna get in trouble if ya take your eyes off me for a few hours."

"Now, Coot—"

"I insist."

The look that Luke received implied that he really really wanted Luke to go. Which he did. He knew Luke had come along to help him and would feel bad about leaving him there on his own, but dang it there just wasn't any sense for the boy to be cooped up all night.

"Okay, I'll go," Luke sighed, getting up off the bed. He grabbed his denim jacket from the chair he had it hanging on. "Don't wander off. I'll be back in a while. And startin' tomorrow, I'm gonna get to the bottom of this murder mystery an' get us all back home."

* * *

Eve was pacing back in forth in her room, going over every solitary detail of the case in her head. The crime was committed August thirtieth of last year . . . exactly five months ago, actually. . . at nine o'clock in the evening . . . simple, ordinary young girl that hadn't even hardly begun to live. Why someone would kill her, she didn't know. What motive could someone possibly have to kill her? _Who _would want to kill her? An angry ex-boyfriend? Ex-husband? Father, brother, close friend? 

The formula seemed simple for the murder, but what she couldn't understand was how in blue blazes they got a picture of her cousin carrying a hammer outside of the hospital. She had asked Cooter about it before and he claimed that he had never sat foot in that hospital in all his life. And why he'd be carrying a hammer in one was beyond the both of them.

Somehow, she was going to have to dig up an alibi for Cooter. But that still didn't explain that photograph. Pictures tell a thousand words, and that certain one seemed to tell _several _thousand.

A knock on the door disrupted her thoughts. She focused her mind back to the present day and shouted, "It's open."

As she had almost expected, Cooter came in. He had a rather uneasy look about him. More than likely, he was just discouraged about how the trial was coming about.

"Sorry if I'm botherin' ya," he said rather quietly. Yep, there was definitely something wrong. He'd been quiet for the past two days, and anyone that knew Cooter Davenport knew that _that _wasn't normal.

"Oh, I was just goin' over some stuff in my head," she told him. "Go ahead, sit down."

He pulled out a desk chair and straddled it backwards so that he could lean forward against the back of the chair. Eve sat on the bed and crossed her legs in a lady-like fashion.

"Where's Luke?" she decided to start off.

"I got tired of him babysittin' me, so I told him to go take Ali somewhere, if he could drag her away from work." Cooter sighed deeply. "Evie, tell me the truth. What are the chances of me gettin' acquitted?"

She scratched the back of her bare neck, her hair tied in a French knot, not too sure how to answer that. "I'm tryin' real hard, sweetie. But the jury seemed pretty hung up on that snapshot of you. I don't really think they'd listen to anything I might bring up. I wish I knew where they got that from. I just don't understand that. You're _sure_ you've never been there before?"

He nodded.

"So confusing," she said to herself, getting up to start pacing the floor again. She always thought better that way. "Do you have any idea where you might have been that night—August thirtieth?"

"Nope. An' I don't keep any records of anything in my shop hardly. Nothin's in order over there, so it wouldn't be no good sendin' someone home to get it. Sorry."

"That's all right," she said, tapping her fingers on her chin in slight frustration. So much for an alibi."Deary, I don't think I can get an acquittal. I've got a bad feelin' that jury's gonna go along with the prosecution on this one. In that case, I can always try and get you out of death row and just have a jail sentence. I might can get you a chance for parole."

"How much is this gonna cost?"

She turned around. "Excuse me?"

"How much do I owe ya for this?"

She almost laughed. "Cooter, I'm not chargin' you anything for this. Don't be silly."

"Don't argue with me on this one, Evie," he said in a serious voice. "You're providin' a service that you went to college and learned. That takes time, money, an' pure skill. I don't want any charity from you or anybody else. Just tell me how much it'll cost. I'll pay ya back, by an' by."

Eve's shoulders sunk. She had never intended on him paying her a dime, but if he insisted . . . "How's this—you give me free car service for two years and then you just pay me five thousand dollars."

He smiled a little. "You're the boss."

Another knock came at the door. Eve blew out a breath of frustration and went answer it. She came face to face with a maid carrying a giant bouquet of red roses. Eve's eyes got real big.

"Who're _these_ from?" she asked as the little uniformed woman handed her the huge arrangement.

"Your husband," the maid, whose nametag read _Lisa_, smiled. "Said they're an anniversary present."

Eve nearly fell out. January thirtieth—they're first-month anniversary! She couldn't believe she'd forgotten. "Oh, the poor darling!" she gasped, horrified that she didn't remember. "He'll be so upset that I didn't call him! Poor dear—I'm callin' him right now."

"Excuse me, ma'am," Lisa interrupted. "No need to call him. He's downstairs in the lobby."

Eve had to grab the door frame to keep herself up right. "Downstairs . . . my husband's downstairs . . . right now . . .I think I'm gonna faint. That little rascal, sneakin' on me like that." She smiled, gave her flowers a hug then ran to put them on her nightstand before taking off running down the hallway.

* * *

"Now, Cooter, you're sure you don't mind me goin' out for a while?" Eve asked as she held the door open to his room. She was wearing an elegant black velvet dress that went almost down to the floor and had a slit up to the knees along with a cream-colored fur coat that she'd received for Christmas last month. "If ya don't want to stay here alone, just say so." 

"No, go ahead, it's your anniversary," Cooter waved her off. "Besides, Rosco drove all this way to see ya, he'd be rather disappointed if you declined his dinner invitation."

She smiled sweetly. "Yes, he would, wouldn't he? He'd be awful jealous if I stayed here, too, I reckon." She pulled a tissue from her little black handbag along with a tube of lipstick and wrote down a number on it. "If anything happens while I'm gone, we'll be at the _Le Chateau_ restaurant. Here's the number," she told him, handing him the tissue which he stuck in his back pocket.

"All right."

"You're sure ya don't mind?"

"Evie, Rosco's gonna bust a button off his suit if ya keep him waitin' down there any longer."

"Okay, okay, I'm goin'," she said, finally closing the door. She opened it again. "Want me to bring somethin' back?"

"GO!"

"All right, I'm leavin'!"

At last she left, leaving Cooter to himself. He didn't think they'd ever leave. Not that he didn't want her or Luke there, it was just that he felt bad about tying them up into his troubles. He wanted them to be able to engage in their own personal lives and not stay cooped up in a hotel with him the entire time. Besides, he needed a little breathing room of his own.


	12. Walk With Me

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Twelve: Walk With Me**

Ali rolled over in her twin-sized bed, blankets getting more tangled as she did so. It was her night off, and she intended to spend the majority of it catching up on her sleep. But every time she closedher eyes, Luke's face appeared. Dang it, if he hadn't shown up yesterday she wouldn't be having this problem!

Her roommate, Roxie, was at the club so Ali was alone. The small two-bedroom apartment seemed too quiet for comfort. Maybe that was why she couldn't sleep. She fumbled out of bed to go and switch the radio on when she heard a knock at the door. She groaned. Maybe they'd think no one was home and just go away.

For a minute, she thought they _had _left. She relaxed and snuggled back down in her pillows. A few more minutes of silence later, she is interrupted again----by someone grabbing her feet and yanking her off the bed. She flipped over and landed on the floor with a THUMP!

"What in the---"

"Nice to see you, too," Luke grinned from where he was sitting on the windowsill. He shook his head. "You're almost as stubborn as Bo, not wantin' to leave bed."

"_Luke_? How did—how'd ya find where I lived?"

"I went to your club to find ya, but your friend Roxie told me that you were in bed at home—so she gave me directions."

_Leave it to Roxie_, Ali thought. She clumsily picked herself up off the floor and dusted off. "How'd you get in?"

"The escape ladder---y'know, it's not safe leavin' that window open at night. Someone might sneak in."

"Very funny," she smirked, running a hand through her hair. "Okay, since you've decided to visit, I suppose you want to do somethin'."

"Cooter sorta gave me a push out the door an' told me to do somethin' besides watch him watch me be bored." He threw her a pair of pants that were lying on the floor. "Put some clothes on an' let's go for a walk or somethin'."

She gave him a salute with her hand. "Yes sir, seargant, sir." He kept sitting on her windowsill. "Ya mind?"

He rolled his eyes and turned his head.

* * *

It may have not been raining, but the damp mixed in with the cold made the outdoors almost miserable. There wasn't that many people out in the area they were in, the small community that Ali lived at. Probably because they were smart enough to stay indoors where they couldn't catch frostbite. 

Ali had her arm intertwined with Luke's as they walked down the street, the girl trying to stay warmer than what she was. She tugged her thick coat around her closer.

"So, where exactly are we goin'?" he asked her.

"What? It was _your _idea to come out here, _you _tell _me _where we're goin'!"

"I'm not a native, so I _can't _tell ya where we're headin'. For all I know we're goin' towards the Atlanta Swamp."

She laughed. "We don't have swamps around here."

"See, there ya go. No clue where we're goin'."

They turned a corner and neither of them saw the patch of ice that was hiding from view. Ali slipped on it and nearly fell over except that Luke grabbed her just in time and pulled her off the ice.

"You all right?" he asked her, the girl still holding onto his shoulders.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Kinda scared me there." She realized that she was still holding onto him and she released him. "I'm okay."

Luke let go of her waist and they continued walking as they were, Ali letting out a quick breath of relief. If she took one more look in his eyes like that again, she'd go insane. She cleared her throat.

"Soooo, how was the Marine life?"

He shrugged. "'Bout how I remember it. Lousy food, creaky cots, an' not nearly enough pretty faces to look at. How ya likin' it back in the city?"

"Oh, it's okay. I like it, but I miss bein' able to wake up in the mornin' without hearin' traffic outside, or drivin' to the middle of nowhere an' actually be alone, not breathin' in car exhaust every time I open my mouth. Yeah, I miss livin' in the country sometimes."

"Then why don't ya at least visit?"

"Aw, me an' Eve would be at each other like cats an' dogs, Luke. I mean, we love each other an' all but we just can't tolerate each other very long. To her, I'm just a loose cannon that made it my goal to make Rachel go bad. To me, she's just a high-an'-mighty goody-girl. Heck, I haven't even called her more than twice since I moved."

"I take it ya didn't go to her wedding then."

"No, but I give her credit for invitin' me. I do miss Rachel though, we always had fun together. I sure wouldn't mind goin' and seein' that little baby when she pops it out. I'd visit for a while to see it, of course."

A cold raindrop hit Luke's nose as they walked, and it nearly froze him solid. Before long, that raindrop was followed by another one, which was followed by yet another, and then they started coming in pairs. It didn't take long for a stampede of raindrops to come falling down onto the sidewalk.

Ali wrapped her free arm around herself. "Brrr, okay, this is as far as we go, I'm gonna turn into Frosty the Snowman if we stay out here."

"Wanna make a run for it?" he asked her, a big grin on his face.

"Do I have a choice?"

Luke turned them both around in the direction they had just come from. "Okay, line up—ready, set . . . _go_!"

At the signal, the two took off down the sidewalk. They slipped a little on the wet surface but they didn't fall any. The hardest part was getting around the corner. Ali even grabbed the "walk-don't walk" sign and swung herself around with it so she could stay off the road. The rain got harder and harder, colder and colder. Luke was in the lead, as he liked to be. Ali made herself jog a little harder and she grabbed his hand so she could keep up.

Sopping wet, they made it under the walkway that would lead to the stairs to Ali's apartment. Laughing, they ran up the stairs two or three at a time, at last making it to the door. Ali dug deep in her coat pockets, trying to locate her keys. She finally found them and quickly unlocked the door, opened it and the warm breeze of the apartment hit them like a tidal wave of comfort. They both went inside, taking in the heat, and Ali shut the door.

She tugged off her coat and threw it on the couch. "Next time we go for a walk, let's wait 'til it's _above _freezin', okie-dokie?" She saw that Luke was soaked. "Well, we can't have you goin' home in sopping wet clothes. I'll throw 'em in the dryer for ya."

He got this look in his eye. "An' I'm supposed to wear _what _while they're dryin'?" She flushed a little bit as a he got closer to her. "'Cause I don't think I can fit in your panties."

She looked him in his big blue eyes and melted. Oh, how she'd missed him all these months.

"I guess we'll just have to see about that, won't we?" she smiled at him mischievously. Her knees buckled when he placed a kiss on her lips, the warmness flowing from him to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, not caring if he was wet or not anymore, and jumped in his arms.

He pulled back for a brief moment and gave her a slight smile. "Guess I was gonna have to strip anyways, huh?"


	13. One Crazy Night

**A/N: Hello, all! This chapter's a little crazy (thus the title) so pay attention to what's goin' on! Hope y'all enjoy!

* * *

**

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Thirteen: One Crazy Night**

Cooter had only been laying in the bed for maybe thirty minutes when he got the strangest feeling in his gut. It was enough to make him sit up in bed and turn the lamp on. He didn't know what it was, but something was telling him to go outside.

"Yeah, right. Go outside in this weather," he said to himself out loud.

_But somethin's wrong. Ya need to check it out_, a little voice in his head told him.

"Why me? Someone else can do it. I'm tired."

_What if you're the only one that feels it? What if you're the only one that can figure it out?_

Cooter rolled his eyes and got out of bed. "Arguin' with myself is like arguin' with a brick wall."

* * *

_Le Chateau _was busy that night, but the Coltranes were lucky enough to get a good corner table. The fancy restaurant was decorated in golden walls, columns, a ballroom area, small statues, a giant chandelier—the works. A stage with a small orchestra played Frank Sinatra's "_I Only Have Eyes For You_." 

Eve never looked so pretty in her black dress with pearl necklace and matching earrings. Rosco looked pretty handsome himself in the nice suit he had on. They'd already ordered, about ten minutes ago, and were getting caught up on things.

"I almost forgot," Rosco said, reaching inside his coat to get something from the inner pocket. He pulled out a thick piece of paper. "I developed it myself," he said with a proud grin on his face.

Eve took the paper and sighed. It was a picture of Rachel holding her baby the day she had it—before they found out that she was sick. Eve's hand went to her heart. "Oh, isn't she precious?" she asked rhetorically, noting the pink blanket they had wrapped around her.

Rosco got this strange, sad look on his face but he tried to look somewhat happy for Eve. Hell, it killed him to see her holdin' a _picture _of a baby. It killed him even more knowing that he couldn't give her one of her own to hold.

"They named her Chelsea," he informed her, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

"Chelsea. That's a pretty name," she said, putting the picture in front of her on the table. She looked up at him. "Did you hold her?"

His eyes lowered and he shook his head slowly. Eve was immediately sorry she'd even asked. She put her hand over his comfortingly. "It's all right, dear. It's not your fault. We've got each other an' Flash."

"Yeah," he said softly.

She decided to switch subjects. "So, where's Flash anyway? Surely you didn't leave her alone."

"Enos is babysittin' her. She did the cutest thing yesterday, ya should've seen it—"

* * *

Cooter was fully dressed, roaming the cold dark alleys behind the hotel and beyond. He didn't know why he'd talked himself into coming out here, but he still had that sense that something was wrong. He wished that the "something wrong" would hurry up and appear, he was getting cold out here! 

He heard a noise behind him and he turned around quickly. A cat had knocked a trash can over and was now taking off down the alley. Cooter sighed in relief, relieved that was all it was.

"Well, looks like there's nothin' wrong," he said to himself. "Guess I was just worryin' over nothin'."

_You haven't even looked around_, the voice told him. _What if there's trouble two alleyways down an' you didn't go down far enough to stop it?_

"Good grief, what do I look like, a cop? If somethin's wrong, they can handle it. I'm goin' to bed."

_The cops might not get there in time. Just check it out, will ya? Put me at ease so you can sleep later._

Cooter threw his hands up in the air. "Fine! I give up! But I'm tellin' ya, nothin's wrong!"

* * *

_Heather Kent was locking up the back door to the art museum that she worked at. She would've left earlier except the night guard had fallen ill and there was nobody else to lock up that night. It didn't matter anyhow, she didn't have anyone waiting for her at home. She lived alone, unless you counted her cat. He was sure to be upset and hungry when she got home._

_She was walking down the alley to head to the front entrance for her car when she was suddenly grabbed from behind. She panicked, tried to scream, but found that she couldn't because something was covering her face. Frightened beyond reason, she felt the front of her face. Plastic, someone wrapped plastic around her. She'd suffocate. Heather kicked and fought with whoever had a hold of her—and that was the last thing she remembered before getting violently hit in the head with something hard . . . over and over again._

* * *

"This is the last alley I'm checkin'," Cooter muttered, rubbing his hands together from the cold. He wished he'd brought his gloves with him. 

_Fine, suit yourself. You're gettin' brainfreeze anyway, which I don't appreciate very much_.

"Your fault, I didn't make myself come out here."

Cooter shook his head. "Man, no wonder they call me 'Crazy Cooter'," he muttered to himself, shaking his head again to clear the vapors. "Runnin' around talkin' to myself like I'm two different people."

He went down the next alley and at first he didn't see anything, which was what he had been seeing all night. He got closer to a light fixture and saw a horrible sight. He tensed up and started gagging as his eyes fell on the dead body of a woman lying on the cold hard pavement—her head wrapped in plastic and was surrounded in a large puddle of blood.

Cooter's hand went to his stomach and he turned to face two trash cans to puke. The pictures of Summer Caskells had been bad enough, but seeing an actual dead body so terribly beaten was just too much for him to handle.

_The killer could still be here, you dork, pay attention!_ the voice screamed.

Cooter snapped to his full height, realizing _he _was right. The killer could be hiding anywhere in this alley, watching him. A raindrop falling on his nose nearly scared the living daylights out of him. He looked up and before he could think, it began to downpour. He was soaked before he had time to put his hood up from his jacket.

The blood from the woman's head began to run in a river towards his feet. He stepped out of the way so not to get any of it on him. He looked around him nervously.

"Where are you?" he called out into the rain. "Where are ya, you sonuvabitch! I know you're out there!"

About ten seconds after his outburst, he felt himself get knocked onto the ground from behind. He landed on the pavement with a THUD, keeping his face from being busted by holding his hands in front of him. He quickly turned around to face his attacker, but before he could the perp had jumped on him and was trying to strangle him.

Cooter landed a punch and knocked the guy off. He stood up and got a good hard look at the killer's face. When he realized who he was looking at he nearly fainted from the shock.

"No," he muttered. "It _can't _be. That's impossible!"

The killer jumped to his feet and rammed Cooter into the wall behind him. The mechanic was still for a second and the stranger pulled something out of his jacket pocket. A hammer. Cooter's eyes widened at the fear that he was going to die right then and there.

The killer did a strange thing. He tossed _at _Cooter, where it landed on his lap. And then he grabbed a trash can lid and rammed the mechanic in the head, knocking him out. Once Cooter was still, the killer picked up Cooter's left hand and placed the hammer in it. And then he took off running down the alley.

**Balladeer: I got a feelin' that things just took a turn for the worse. I didn't even get to see the guy's face!**

* * *

The orchestra was now playing Bobby Darin's "_Beyond the Sea_". It had been almost forty minutes since the couple had ordered and Eve for one was starving to death. 

"Darlin', maybe you need to go to the kitchen an' ask what's takin' them so long," she suggested, patting Rosco's hand. "The longer we sit here, the longer you'll just have to do without."

He gave her a funny look. "Do without what?"

It amazed her how he didn't understand her when she was trying to give him a "hint". "Think about it," she whispered, her fingers tracing a path down his.

The lightbulb switched on in his brain and he got one of his dopey grins on his face. "Oh, _that_. Uh . . okay, I'll just go to the . . . kitchen . . .now," he stammered, getting up from his seat in a flustered manner.

He turned around real fast and ran into a waiter carrying a tray of glasses and a bottle of wine. Rosco clumsily helped keep them all from toppling to the floor, muttering apologies and even dusted the bottle off with his hand as if he'd soiled it by knocking it over. Eve had a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling.

"Eet iz fine, _monsieur_," the little French waiter assured him, stepping out of his way.

Rosco blushed and gave Eve a little wave with his fingers before turning aroundto try again. "Khee, I love 'er, I love 'er!" he muttered to himself,nearly tacklingalmost every other waiter that came in his way.

* * *

It was a circus tent in there. French waiters, chefs, managers, everyone seemed to be in there making a huge fuss over everything. Nobody seemed to notice that Rosco was even there. Someone ran by and handed him a load of laundry. 

"There you are, Jean-Claude, put these on the wash, will ya?" an American in chef's clothing spat out as he passed by.

"Jean-Claude?" Rosco muttered to himself.

Someone else pushed by him, almost knocking him over. "Sorrry, _monsieur_!"

_And who the heck is this Miss Zur person they keep talkin' about?_ the confused Hazzard County sheriff asked in his head.

He didn't quite know what to do with the pile of dirty laundry so he just opened up a door and stepped inside it, hoping it was the laundry room. Then he realized that he had gone out the back door and was now standing in the cold holding an armful of towels with nowhere to put them.

"Oh, good grief," he sighed to himself.

He was about to turn around and go back inside the madhouse kitchen when he heard the sound of someone running into some trashcans over head. A figure came running down into the alley and collapsed in front of Rosco when he tripped over a tin can. Rosco's eyes widened with fear, not knowing what to think.

The man quickly picked himself up and gave Rosco a similar look—either out of fear or out of curiosity at seeing a dressed up man standing outside holding laundry. Rosco got a brief look at his face before he took off running into the darkness.

"Cooter?" Rosco asked out loud.

**Balladeer: Cooter? But I just left him knocked out in an alley!**

He shook his head and wondered why the devil Cooter Davenport would be running around this late in the cold. And was that blood that he saw on him?

* * *

Rosco made it back to their table, still a little shaken about what he had seen. Eve looked up at him as he sat down. Now the band was playing Louis Armstrong's "_What a Wonderful World_". 

"There you are, I thought you'd gotten lost. Did ya talk to a chef?"

"Uh . . ." In all the excitement, he'd completely forgotten. "They said it'd be out in a few minutes," he told her, silently asking God's forgiveness for the small lie. He pushed his wine glass out of his way. "I don't think I need anymore of that. I thought I just saw Cooter covered in blood."

She stared at him. "Blood?"

* * *

Eve was at a payphone beside the bathroom calling her cousin's hotel room. After five rings, she finally got an answer. 

"Hello?" she heard a groggy voice answer.

"Cooter? It's Eve, you okay?"

"Eve?" she heard him ask confusedly. "Oh, hi. Uh . . . yeah, I was just sleepin'. What's goin' on?"

She smiled and shook her head. Rosco must've been seeing things. She remembered the last time he had something besides buttermilk to drink. He thought he saw a tiger in their living room. "It's nothin'," she said, embarrassed she'd even called. "I'll be back in about an hour or so. Just go back to sleep."

**Balladeer: Folks, somethin' ain't right about this . . . **


	14. The Hammer Head

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Fourteen: The Hammer Head**

Cooter eventually woke up that morning around six AM. He barely remembered last night's disturbing events and had hoped that it was all just a crazy nightmare. He realized that it had all been real when he realized that he didn't wake up in a bed at the hotel. He was on the cold hard cement, damp from last night's shower, and with an aching pain in his head.

He touched the top of his head where he had been hit and winced when he felt the huge knot. The ringing in his ears didn't help none either as he tried to stagger to his feet. He stopped when he heard the clicking of a gun.

"Don't move."

Cooter squinted to see that there was a troop of armed officers surrounding him, all of them pointing loaded guns at him. At first he was slightly confused but then he understood—they thought _he _was responsible for this murder! Oh dear, and add that up with the murder they already thought he committed----

"Listen, there's been a huge–"

"Shut up!" the officer snapped. "Johnston, Parker, take him in an' read him his rights."

"But—you've got the wrong guy!"

"I said shut up!"

**Balladeer: What a way to start the mornin'.**

* * *

Eve was away in dreamland, snuggled up in bed next to Rosco, when the phone rang. She groaned to herself. She had _not _asked for a wake-up call. 

"Say hello from Rosco," her husband muttered sleepily in her ear.

"Say it yourself," she mumbled back. "You're closer to the phone."

Without bothering to open his eyes, Rosco blindly reached for the phone behind him and answered, "Hello? Oh." He yawned and held the receiver to Eve's ear. "For you."

She let him keep holding the phone for her while she talked. "Hello? Oh, hello, Cooter." Her eyes flew open and she jumped up from where she was, grabbing the phone for herself. "_Cooter_?"

* * *

Cooter sat, once again, in the same cell he had been in the first time he was arrested. He was sitting on the bed they had in there, just scratching his head at the whole thing. He went over all the details in his mind and it _still _didn't make much sense to him. That face—the face of the killer—it was too bizarre! 

He could hear the television that the guard was watching outside the door. The sound of a woman reporter broadcasting the latest news came on.

"_Today, right here in Atlanta, the suspect of the Caskells murder—Cooter Davenport—has been arrested today by the Sheriff's department for yet _another _murder, this time twenty-four year old Heather Kent. Kent was leaving her work place at the local art museum when she was strangled by a plastic bag and beaten with a hammer—the same method that was used to kill Caskells five months ago. Davenport was found unconscious in the alleyway, the murder weapon in his possession. Investigators are sure that he will be found undeniably guilty for both murders."_

A man's voice came up, probably an officer or even the sheriff himself. _"We at the station sorta deemed him as the _Hammer Head_."_

"Great, I have a new name now," Cooter sighed, putting his head in his hands.

* * *

Luke was laying in bed next to Ali, who was sound asleep. Luke had gradually woke up, remembered what had happened between them last night and smiled to himself. He curled back up next to her when he realized he wasn't even sleepy anymore. He looked at her clock—six-thirty AM. Goodness, it was early. 

He carefully got out of bed so not to wake Ali, put on his boxers and stretched out his muscles. Just to have something to listen to, he switched on her radio at low volume to listen to see if anything was going on in the area.

"_Another murder has been committed in the Atlanta area, just last night by the man that the local station has started calling 'The Hammer Head'. Twenty-eight year old Cooter Davenport, is being held in custody for the murder of young Heather Kent."_

Luke nearly fell out on the floor. He immediately started shaking Ali awake. "Ali, wake up! There's been another murder an' Cooter's been arrested!"

* * *

"Cooter?" 

The mechanic looked up and saw Eve coming straight for him. He got a somewhat smile on his face and stood up to meet her. "Boy, am I glad to see you! When can ya bust me out?"

She had a sad look in her eyes. "They refused bail. Sorry, sweetie, you're stuck in there until the trial's over—which they postponed today, due to _this_."

Cooter became downhearted at that point, going back and sitting on the bed. He looked so miserable, Eve almost wanted to cry. She went back to the door, said something to the guard who got up and unlocked the door. He opened it for her, let her in, and then closed and locked it.

"Just yell when you're ready to leave," the guard instructed, leaving the two alone.

Eve sat on the adjacent bed in front of her cousin and took him by the hands. "Mind tellin' me what happened?"

He didn't meet her eyes when he spoke. "It was so _surreal_, Evie. I didn't even know what was goin' on. One minute I'm lyin' in bed an' I get this crazy feelin' that I need to go outside an' look around. So I do that an' before I know it I see this dead girl lying on the ground. She looked like that other girl from them pictures we saw. I got sick to my stomach an' then I realized that whoever was responsible might still be around. So I call out to the guy an' he attacks me. We get into it for a while an' I saw his face."

"You saw his face?" she asked, a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes. "What did he look like? Did ya recognize him?"

Cooter looked a little baffled at the question, as if he wasn't too sure how to answer it. He shook his head and replied, "Look, Evie, I appreciate you tryin' to help me an' all but it might be best if we just plead guilty."

She gave him a stunned look. "Cooter, what are you sayin'? You can't give up now, not when you've seen the real killer with your own eyes!"

"That's just it, Evie. Nobody would ever believe me when I said who it was. Take my word for it. I feel like I'm losin' my mind over this. I sure felt like that last night."

Eve sighed and dropped her head to think. "Cooter," she started off, lifting her head back up. "You may have given up, but I'm not about to let these dirtbags lock you away for somethin' ya didn't do. Look at me while I'm talkin' to you," she said firmly, using her hand to grab his chin and move his head so he could face her.

"You remember, long time ago when I was about ten years old an' you were eight? It was at Aunt Sally's house on the Fourth of July. One of the beagle dogs got lose an' went after a little rabbit during the big barbecue. Me an' you went racin' after him to drag him home. There was a big barbed wire fence that separated Aunt Sally's property from the neighbors an' the dog had gone up under it to chase the rabbit. You climbed over it okay, but—"

"You fell an' got tangled up in it," Cooter finished for her. "An' ya started screamin' at me to run on an' catch the dog while you tried to get unraveled yourself."

"But ya didn't. Ya stayed there with me to help get me out of the wire, although I kept tellin' ya to leave. You said that ya weren't about to leave me alone when I was in trouble." She squeezed his hands. "Well, that's what I'm sayin' to you. You're in trouble an' I'm not about to leave you alone. So just buck up an' hang in there. We'll get this barbed wire off ya."

Cooter had tears in his eyes. "Thanks, Evie."

She gave him a big bear hug around his neck and gave him a little kiss on the side of his head.

"Now, ya gonna tell me who it was ya saw last night or do I have to beat it outta ya?"


	15. Glimmer of Hope

A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for the reviews, they really help! I'm going to be out of town on vacation for a few days starting tomorrow and I'll be back either Thursday or Friday. I may or may not post chapter sixteen later on tonight just to be nice if time allows me. So keep it 'tween the ditches til' I get back :)

* * *

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Fifteen: Glimmer of Hope**

Bo and Rachel went to the hospital to visit Chelsea. She was wide awake in the nursery glancing around at her surroundings the best that she could. She'd kick her legs a little under her blanket while Rachel held her in her arms, and every now and then she'd give a little yawn—only to continue staring at everyone that came into her view. Just looking at her, you'd never know that there was something terribly wrong with her.

Rachel was sitting in a rocking chair that the nurses set up for her to sit in, Bo next to her in a normal chair that had been taken from the waiting room. Chelsea was busy glancing back and forth at the both of them as she sucked on the bottle that the nurses had prepared for her.

"Hey, let me try," Bo pleaded when the bottle became half-empty.

"All right," Rachel said, putting the bottle in between her legs.

She got the baby into a position that would be easy for her to transfer her in and she laid her in Bo's cradling arms. At first, Chelsea didn't appreciate being moved from her comfortable position and her face crinkled up, but the warmth of Bo's arms calmed her down and she settled right in. Rachel handed Bo the bottle and helped him hold it at the right height so he wouldn't be choking the baby. Chelsea closed her eyes and seemed to try to go to sleep while she sucked.

"I think she likes me," Bo grinned when he saw the pleasant expression on his daughter's face. "Hey, Chelsea, this is Daddy. We all can't wait for you to come home. You'll like it there, ya got your own room, an' all kinds of stuffed animals to cuddle with."

Rachel got the painful feeling that Chelsea might not live long enough to even know what a stuffed animal was—or even see her own room for that matter. She shook the fear away. It did no good to think of the bad. She had think positive—Chelsea _would _live through surgery, she _would _get her heart fixed to normal, and _would _live a long healthy life.

* * *

Eve, Luke, Rosco and Ali were all gathered at a circular table at the nearest café, everybody with a mug of coffee in their hands. Eve had told the gang what Cooter had told her in the cell and they were all still a little confused about it. 

"He said that he saw _himself_?" Luke asked. "I think he cracked his head somewhere a little too hard." Ali jabbed his side to make him hush. She was surprised at herself that she had even agreed to be within ten feet of her sister, but she had decided to overlook their differences in order to help her cousin out.

"I know it sounds crazy, but I believe him," Eve insisted, taking a sip of her coffee. "There's the possibility that someone is running around that looks like him."

"Yeah, like I saw last night," Rosco piped in. "That fella I thought was Cooter, remember?"

"Guess ya weren't seein' things after all, hon," Eve told him. "Here's what I think happened—Cooter goes outside the hotel to look around. He finds the dead girl and gets attacked. So far, everything makes sense. But then he sees the guy's face—and it appears to be his own. He gets confused and the guy knocks him out, throws the murder weapon on him so it would look like Cooter was the actual murderer, and makes a run for it. Later on, Rosco's outside—for whatever reason I never found out," she added, giving him a look which he answered with a silly grin.

"Anyways, he sees the guy running down the alley covered in the victim's blood. He just thought it was Cooter because it looked so much like him. After he tells me what he saw, I called Cooter's hotel room to see if he was all right. The killer, pretending to be Cooter, answers the phone and acts like he's fine. So I'm fine the rest of the evening and don't suspect a thing, an' nobody bothers to try and find Cooter before the cops do."

"But there's no way to prove this?" Ali asked.

"That's the bad part about it."

Luke got an idea. "Wait a minute, we have plenty to work with here! Eve can get her story together and get the facts straight. I can talk to the girls' families and try to see if they might have known who this fella was. Once we get a name, we can track him down, turn him into the fuzz and get Cooter's name of the record!"

"I'll help," Ali chirped in.

Eve gave her an appreciative smile.

* * *

**Balladeer: So now they gotta plan. Luke an'** **Ali were gonna go visit the family of the deceased an' put a name to the killer's face while Eve stuck it out with the prosecution, reporters, etc. An' poor Cooter still sat there in jail. **

**It took a while, but using an Atlanta phonebook, he finally found the correct Caskells family** **that the first victim was related to. They used a taxi to make it to the home of George an' Sue Caskells, Summer Caskells' parents.**

Sue gave Luke and Ali both a cup of nice hot tea. Her husband was gone at work so it was just the three of them alone. After they had explained to her that they were trying to crack the case themselves, Sue seemed more than happy to let them have any information they needed.

"Summer was a good girl," she began as she was sitting in her armchair while the other two sat on the couch. "Never had to worry about her getting in with the wrong crowd, always did well in school. It was such a shock to hear that someone had killed her. I couldn't imagine who would want to do such a thing." She sighed and put her tea cup on the coffee table. "I've got some pictures, would you like to see?"

"Oh, sure," Luke smiled politely.

Sue reached around behind her to get a photo album that was sitting on the bookshelf she had located within reach. She opened it up and handed it to Luke, who took it gently and laid it in his lap. Ali peered around his shoulder to look as well. They saw a very much alive Summer hanging out on the beach with her friends. There was a label above the photos that said "Spring Break—1987". Luke shuddered, thinking that the poor girl hadn't even known that was going to be the last time she'd celebrate a spring break. He started flipping the pages.

"Y'know, that boy they arrested—his name escapes me," Sue started up again. "They showed his picture on the television and the papers. George an' I both recognized the face, but the funny thing was that they got the name either mixed up or they nabbed a look-alike."

Luke flipped a few more pages and his eyes landed on one that caught his attention in particular. Summer sitting at a table in a restaurant with a guy. Ali's eyes bugged. Luke turned the album around and pointed to the picture, raising the book up so Sue could see.

"Ya mean _this _guy?" he asked.

Sue leaned forward and squinted. "Yes, that's him. He was her boyfriend—Elijah Moore, or "Eli" for short. They broke up about a month before she was killed."

"Why didn't you tell the investigators about this?" Ali wanted to know. "If they arrested the wrong guy, why didn't you say anything?"

"I _did _say something to the man in charge, I believe his last name was Yulch, but he told me that "Eli" was just his alias."

"That's a little odd," Luke muttered. He handed the album to Sue and then shook her hand. "Thanks, Mrs. Caskells, you've been a _big _help!"

* * *

**Balladeer: After learnin' about this guy named Eli, Luke called Eve at the hotel to tell her the news. Then they looked up the Kent family and called them. Heather's father, Bill, answered.** **Ali explained to him over the phone that she was an old friend of Heather's, expressed her condolences, an' asked if he could tell her where she could find an Eli Moore.**

"Eli? Heather's ex-boyfriend?" Bill replied. "I haven't seen him since they broke up last month, but last I knew he was stayin' in the slum part of town by himself. Uh, the ol' Mockingbird complex on the outside of town."

"Okay, thank you, you've been a great help," Ali told him before hanging up. "If Eli's still livin' in the same place, I know exactly where he is."


	16. Good News, Good News

**A/N: Hi, I'm finally back from vacation! I'll just skip the jabber and get on with the story, so hope y'all enjoy!

* * *

**

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Sixteen: Good News, Good News**

**Balladeer: While the gang's fightin' for Cooter's freedom in Atlanta, little Chelsea Duke was still fightin' for her life in Hazzard County. That next morning, Bo and Rachel got a phone call at about five o'clock . . . **

Bo and Rachel rushed to the hospital. Dr. Reynolds had called them explaining that it was urgent they come right away, but didn't explain why. He only said that it was GOOD news, not bad. That gave some relief to the grief-stricken parents.

They met the doctor in the emergency center of the complex. He had a small smile on his face as they approached.

"Sorry to have scared you both this morning," he began, shaking both of their hands. "But I thought I should let you know that one of my patients I was scheduled to operate on had died overnight, and so that leaves me the availability to begin operating on Chelsea sooner than we'd expected."

Bo would've let out a "yee-haw!" if they hadn't been in a hospital, so he controlled himself and expressed his joy with a giant grin and an eager handshake. "Wow, thanks a lot, doc! This really means a lot to us!"

"You're quite welcome," Dr. Reynolds smiled back. "And since you've already signed the appropriate paperwork that allows me to operate, I can begin right now if you'd like."

"Oh, that'd be wonderful," Rachel smiled, tears coming out of her eyes. "Thank you so much."

* * *

The doctors had been in the operating room with Chelsea for almost an hour now. Rachel had begun to pace back and forth in the waiting room, her nerves tangled up in knots over the whole affair. Bo was reading a car magazine that had been lying on the coffee table—well, not exactly reading it. He was just pretending so that it would look like he was calm. Rachel was already anxious enough for the both of them. 

"Oh, how much longer will they be in there?" she asked rhetorically, starting to bite her nails down to nothing. "I hope everything's goin' all right."

"Rach, lighten up. The man's done a million of these types of surgeries."

"Not on a premature newborn though! What if they come out an' say they couldn't do it 'cause her heart was too small to work with? What if it's all too much for her to handle? What if she starts bleeding a bunch an'—"

Bo stood up and wrapped his arms around her. "Stop what-if-ing all the bad stuff, you're gonna make yourself sick thinkin' about it." He kissed on top of her head. "It'll be cool, you'll see."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked, laying her head on his chest for comfort.

"I'm a Duke—we're all like that. An' Chelsea's a Duke, too. She'll pull through with flying colors."

* * *

Another hour passed before finally Dr. Reynolds emerged from the operating room. Bo and Rachel raced up to him as he was taking off his gloves. 

"Doc, how's Chelsea?" Rachel asked immediately. "Did she make it? Did you fix what was wrong with her?"

"Chelsea is just fine," Dr. Reynolds assured them with a smile. "She's still knocked out from the anesthesia, although we didn't give her that much due to her tiny size. We patched up the opening in her heart, but we'll have to keep her here for another few days to see if there's any changes in her blood pressure and oxygen levels. If everything checks out, you'll be able to take her home."

"Woo-hoo!" Bo exclaimed, not too loudly though so not to bother everybody. He grabbed Rachel into a big huge hug. "Hear that, honey? She's gonna be all right!"

"Can we see her, doc?" Rachel asked as she was being squeezed to death by her husband.

"Of course."

* * *

Chelsea was sleeping peacefully in her closed off incubation crib that she'd been in since she was born. She had little extensions stuck to her chest to monitor her heart rate and other factors. Bo stuck his hand through the small opening at the base of the crib that was used as an air hole. He gently rubbed the baby's tiny hand, which wouldn't have been able to wrap itself around his own adult finger. 

"Amazin', that two people can make somethin' so beautiful," he whispered, putting an arm around Rachel. "All the hate that goes on in the world, ya tend to forget about the little things in life that makes it all worthwhile to be alive."

Rachel chuckled. "Look, she's twitchin' her feet in her sleep. They're so cute, bein' little like that."

Bo leaned in a little. "I think she's got my nose."

"No she doesn't, _your _nose is right _here_," she said, using her palm to tap him on the nose.

"Real cute."

* * *

**Balladeer: Bo called up the rest of the family to tell 'em the good news about Chelsea's surgery. Jesse an' Daisy dropped in to take a look at her an' then go have a little celebration party at the new parents' home. Yum-yum, I just love hot chocolate. . . **

"Chelsea's only been in the family for about a week an' already she's proven that she's a Duke," Jesse kidded as they all sat outside on the front porch with their steaming mugs of hot cocoa and marshmallows. "She's gonna do just fine."

"I can't wait til' y'all get her home!" Daisy smiled. "Havin' a baby in the family, that's so excitin'!"

Bo took a sip of his cocoa. "I wish Luke were here to see her, though."

"An' I wish my sisters an' Cooter were here, too," Rachel sighed. Heck, nobody in her family had been able to see her!

"They will, don't worry 'bout it, sugar," Daisy assured her, patting her hand. "They'll all be home, soon."

"I wonder how they're doin' in Atlanta with that case," Jesse pondered, looking out into the distance.

"If I know my sister, she's probably kickin' the other team's butt."


	17. Further Developments

**A/N: Hello, and thanks for the reviews! Only three more chapters after this, then it'll be off to the next sequel! Hope y'all enjoy :)

* * *

**

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Seventeen: Further Developments**

**Balladeer: Back in Atlanta, someone's butt _was _gettin' kicked, but it wasn't just Eve that was doin' it. Nick Rogan was doin' some of his own as well. They were both meetin' with Judge Whitney in his chambers for a private meeting, discussin' the most recent events.**

"I say we pin both murders on him in just one trial!" Nick argued, his arms crossed angrily. "We've got enough evidence now, plus we have the murder weapon to tie them both together!"

"But he's _innocent_!" Eve insisted, her temper rising by the second. "There's a look-alike out there that's responsible for both crimes, an' he's gettin' further an' further away the more we waste time trying to blame my client!"

"Look-alike, schmook-alike," Nick mocked, rolling his eyes. "Don't pull the evil-twin thing outta the hat, Eve."

"Stop callin' me by my first name, _Mr. Rogan_!"

"Now, now, both of you settle down," Judge Whitney said in a calming voice as he sat at his desk. "Let's hear what Evie has to say."

She smiled lady-like at the judge then shifted her eyes over and scowled at Nick, who sneered back. "A few of my . . . associates, have been doing a little digging for me and they have found that there _is_ a man out there that could almost pass as my client's identical twin—Elijah Moore."

Nick looked a little pale when she said the name, but then he forced the color to come back to his cheeks so no one would notice.

**Balladeer: Uh-huh, what's _his _part in all this?**

"He dated both victims up until a month before their murders—that's a motive. The victims' families have pictures that prove it."

Nick cleared his throat. "Uh—your Honor, I can explain."

"You had better," the judge glared. "Why didn't the prosecution investigate into this Elijah Moore character?"

Nick glanced at Eve and then focused back on the judge. "We _did, _that's what I'm trying to say. The client, Mr. Davenport, was simply going by an alias, a false identity."

"You are unbelievable," Eve growled. "What proof do you have that they are indeed one and the same? My own husband saw the killer escaping the crime scene last night, although at the time we thought it was just Mr. Davenport."

"Your husband's here?" Nick squeaked.

"That's right, an' if ya lay one finger on me while he's here, he'll break it in half," she bit.

**Balladeer: She's got a lot of spunk, don't she? **

The judge raised his eyebrows. "Well, that is an interesting story you have there, Evie. But I'm interested in if you have any evidence that this Eli man exists. The jury might not buy the story of a look-alike stranger unless you have cold-hard evidence."

"I'm workin' on it, Judge. I just need a few more days."

"We've already wasted enough time as it is," Nick argued. "Let justice do its duty an' let's get on with it."

"What is your problem!" Eve exclaimed, putting her fists on her hips. "At least give me a few more days to get what I need!"

Judge Whitney seemed a little baffled. Eve began to beg, "_Please, _I'm askin' you as a friend. I just need a few days to get what I need. I've got something here. _Please_."

Nick rolled his eyes and said something under his breath. The judge sighed and answered, "All right, I'll give you forty-eight hours to get your evidence. But after that, we're going to finish this trial."

"Oh, thank you so much," Eve smiled. "I owe ya one."

* * *

Rosco was outside in the hallway, waiting for Eve to finish with her meeting. She hadn't wanted to come alone, so he agreed to stick around a little longer before he had to go home. At last she showed up from around the corner, scaring him a little bit. 

"Hey, sweetie," she told him, giving him a quick kiss and putting her arm around his. "Thanks for waitin' on me."

"Sure thing. How'd it go?" he asked as they started walking off.

"I got forty-eight hours to get the evidence needed to get Cooter off the hook," she replied.

Nick came up from behind them. "An' you'll be wasting all forty-eight of them."

Eve turned around and glared at her ex-husband. "Back off, I have nothing further to discuss with you."

"I'm just warnin' ya," Nick shrugged. "Givin' you the heads up so that you won't be too disappointed when your precious cousin winds up getting stuck with the needle."

"When _I _win this case, don't go home cryin' to your momma."

Rosco was glancing back and forth between the two of them, wondering what in tarnation was the deal here. Nick reasoned out that he was her husband and smirked. "Hey, Evie. You look nice with your hair down. Why didn't you ever wear that way for me?"

Eve's eyes flashed, remembering how Nick always made her wear it _up_ at all times, let out a, "Why you little—" and would've jumped to strangle him if Rosco hadn't caught her by the waist to keep her place.

Nick chuckled. "Yeah, you keep reined in like that. It's the only way to control her." He tipped his hat. "Good day."

Eve counted to ten in her head to try and calm down as Nick walked out of her sight. Rosco felt her ease up so he slowly released her. "Was that who I think it was?" he asked quietly.

Eve sighed. "Yes, baby, that was _him_." She put a palm to her forehead. "I'm sorry I didn't tell ya that he was on the case too, but I didn't want you worryin' about me. I got enough to worry about as it is, I don't need to be worried about _you _bein' worried."

Rosco wrapped his arms around her and placed his head in the crook of her neck. "It's all right, honeypie. I'm not worried 'bout that jerk."

* * *

**Balladeer: On the other side of the city, Ali led Luke to the Mockingbird Condominiums that Bill Kent had said Eli Moore lived. When they got there, they asked the administration if they still had him down as a resident.**

"I'm sorry, folks, Mr. Moore hasn't lived here in over a month," an overweight man in a blue-checked suit told them as he knocked the ashes off his cigar into a small silver tray. "Left without even sayin' good-bye, the ol' dog."

"Do ya have any idea where he might've gone?" Luke asked, determined not to hit a dead-end. "Any friends he might be with? Anything?"

"Now that I think about it, I believe I heard him talkin' 'bout some fella several times—Rogan I think it was. Some ol' drinkin' buddy of his, some guy named Rogan."

"_Nick _Rogan?" Ali asked, her eyes getting big. She recognized the name, of course, since her sister had been married to him once upon a time.

"That's it," the cigar man noted. "Nick Rogan. Never met the guy, but as much as Moore talked about him they seemed like good friends. I'd be lookin' for _him_ if I were you."

"Thanks, mister, you've been a big help!" Luke thanked him, grabbing Ali's hand to rush out the door to get to the nearest payphone.


	18. Meet Eli Moore

A/N: Hey, everyone, thanks for the reviews, glad everyone's liking so far. Only two more chapters left!

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Eighteen: Meet Eli Moore**

**The Next Morning**

Eli Moore was wearing sunshades, a black bucket hat, a black jean jacket, black muscle shirt and even a pair of black slacks. He was picking up a gallon of milk and some bread at the small corner grocery store. The reason for the shades was a dual purpose—they looked good _and _they kept people from recognizing him as the same guy that was arrested for the Hammer Head murders. The resemblance was uncanny—they could have passed as identical twins, yet they weren't even remotely related.

He was giving the clerk a lingering gaze at her well-proportioned body while heading out the door when he was suddenly run over by someone wearing overalls and a knit hat. Eli's bag of groceries fell and his shades went tumbling down after them.

"Oh, I am _so_ sorry!" the other fella said, bending down to help Eli pick his belongings up.

"I'm fine," he growled slightly, not wishing to be bothered by anyone.

The overall-wearer took a good long look at his face. "Cooter?" he asked with a big grin on his face. "Well, sweet mother of pearl, Coot, how've ya been?"

**Balladeer: Folks, y'all remember L.B. Davenport, another one of Cooter's cousins, don't y'all?**

Eli gave the guy a strange look, then realized that he had the two of them mixed up. Of course that meant he would have to play along so that this kid wouldn't get suspicious.

"Hey!" Eli said back, a little uncomfortably though. "I'm doin' all right, it's all cool. Uh, how're you?"

"I'm doin' great, Coot, I'm just passin' through here on my way to a weldin' job downstate." L.B. looked at Eli's eyes and asked, "Hey, cuz, since when did you have pretty blue eyes like that?"

_Time to go!_ Eli thought as he maneuvered his way around L.B. and started backing up towards the sidewalk. "Uh, they just look that way in certain light . . . I'll have to catch ya later, I'm real busy—bye!"

"But—" L.B. started, but Eli was out the door and walking quickly out of view. L.B. scratched his head. "Sure is jittery," he muttered. "Ain't like him to do that . . ."

* * *

Luke and Ali had hit a dead-end with Nick Rogan yesterday—he wasn't listed in the telephone directory. They took the night off to rest.Luke seemed a little discouraged but Ali quickly suggested they just _follow _him from the courthouse one day. But Luke didn't seem to up for that—be kinda hard to follow someone in the city without being noticed, even if he _didn't _have the General Lee with him. 

They sat at a little roadside diner for a quickbreakfast the next morningand to discuss what the next move was when Ali looked around Luke's shoulder and saw someone she recognized. "L.B.!" she exclaimed, getting up and rushing to her younger cousin, who was in between her and Rachel's age.

L.B.'s eyes got big and a grin spread across his face. "Well, I'm just runnin' into everybody up here!" he declared, giving Ali a big hug when she reached him. "Hey, Luke's here, too!"

Luke smiled at the younger boy as he walked up. "Nice seein' ya, L.B." He thought about what he had said and asked, "Uh, L.B., what do you mean by _runnin' into everybody_."

L.B. had a goofball grin on his face, saying, "I don't know what else I'd call it—I done seen Cooter 'bout ten minutes ago an' now I'm seein' you an' Ali. I like that short hair on ya by the way."

Ali ran a hand through her short locks. "Thanks."

"You saw Cooter?" Luke asked a little doubtfully. He didn't think that L.B. knew about him being in jail.

"Yeah, gettin' some stuff at that little corner store at the Millsbury-Trent intersection." He shook his head as he remembered their brief encounter. "Sure acted strange. An' he had blue eyes, too! There ain't never been a blue-eyed Davenport in all of family history an' here he shows up with a pair of 'em that he ain't never had before! Plus he was wearin' all black!"

_Eli Moore_, Luke thought, his mind racing. "Uh, which way did he leave the store?"

"He went east from there, but I couldn't tell ya where he was goin'." He gave them both a strange look. "Is everything all right?"

"It's fine, we just have to run—we'll see ya again sometime. Come on, Ali!"

They ran out the diner, then Luke had to turn around and throw some money on the counter to pay for the food before running back outside again. L.B. shook his head. "_Everybody's _actin' strange today."

* * *

Just as L.B. had said, they managed to find the character thathe had thought was Cooter. He was walking inside of a building—a small apartment complex—carrying a brown paper bag that you'd see groceries being put in. Luke and Ali crossed the street once he had gone inside and carefully entered the building. They heard a door slam upstairs and they quietly went up to figure out which room he had gone in. Luke put a finger to his lips to signal being silent as they began to hear some voices. Apparently, Eli had company waiting on him. 

"Where have you _been_?" they heard an angry voice growl.

"That's Nick," Ali whispered softly, recognizing the mean tone.

There was a silence before they heard Eli respond in a low voice, "Outta groceries."

"How do you expect us to keep you safe when you're out in public like that?" they heard a third voice ask in a raised level.

"That's Detective Yulch," Luke whispered.

**Balladeer: Yulch? I wasn't countin' on _that_ . . .

* * *

**

Eli was laid out casually on his torn up couch, a cigarette burning in one hand and his hat and shades in the other. "Why did we invite him in on this anyway?" he asked Nick who was leaned against the closed window, arms crossed.

"_I'm _the one that's dishing away evidence leading to _you_, Mr. Moore," Yulch snapped, who was sitting on the opposite sofa from Eli. "If not for me, _you _would be the one in custody."

"Calm down, girlies," Nick replied calmly, walking towards the two. "We got a problem here. Turns out that Evie knows about Eli's existence."

Yulch gawked at him. "What? How could she possibly have done _that_?"

Nick glared sideways at Eli. "Because dumb-ass here allowed Mr. Davenport to see his face, that's why! Evie heard the story and she's convinced that you're real an' even has a few people out lookin' for ya!"

"Is it _my_ fault the he decided to show up at the murder scene?" Eli snarled, thumping his cigarette ashes onto the hardwood floor. "At least he got caught, that _was _the plan wasn't it?"

"The plan didn't call on you gettin' discovered!" Nick hissed. "If you hadn't gone ballistic on Summer after she dumped you, _none _of this would've happened in the first place!"

Eli breathed in some more smoke and exhaled it slowly. "Sad, what happened to Summer. I actually kinda miss her."

Nick shook his head. "You're lucky I'm still friends with you after that. An' here I am tryin' to keep your sorry butt outta prison."

"Hey, _you_ were the one that suggested pinnin' it on what's-his-name," Eli told him. "How'd you find 'im anyways?"

"Ex-wife's favorite cousin," he replied simply. "An' now ex-wife has her little posse out huntin' the streets for ya."

Eli opened up his jacket to reveal a small handgun that he had picked up a few days earlier. "I'll take care of 'em," he promised, closing up his jacket. "I'll blow 'em to hell if they come for me."

"_We _are gonna be the ones blown to hell if anything else goes wrong," Yulch noted. "What are we going to do about this, Rogan?"

"I tell what we're gonna do. Eli's gonna stay outta sight until this whole thing is over with, _you _keep your mouth shut an' do like you've been doin', an' _I_ will take care of lil' Evelyn Coltrane personally. She's gotten in way too deep for her own good."

**Balladeer: I never liked the guy, but if he's plannin' hurtin' poor Evie, I _really _don't like 'im.**


	19. Confrontation

A/N: Thanks to everyone that reviewed, I really appreciate them :) There's only one more chapter after this one, surprisingly, so hold on to something and away we go!

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Nineteen: Confrontation**

Luke and Ali went and hid in the small closet that was next to Eli's door as they heard the group starting to walk towards the door. One by one they heard the three of them leaving. Luke peeked out the closet and down the stairs to see if they were all gone before motioning to Ali to follow him. He quietly opened up Eli's apartment door and glanced around to make sure no one was there, then let himself and Ali in.

"What are we lookin' for?" Ali asked once they were inside with the door shut.

"Anything," he answered. "Anything to prove that this guy exists."

* * *

Nick and Yulch headed out in their own private cars. Eli slipped his shades back on along with his hat. He stuck a hand in his pocket to get his lighter so he could have another lit cigarette when he remembered he had left it on the coffee table upstairs. 

_Damn_, he thought, turning around to head back to his apartment.

Eli got to his door and sensed that something wasn't right. He pulled out his gun slowly and clicked the safety off in case he had to use it quickly. He quietly opened the door so it wouldn't creak. He then swung open the door, got a cocky grin on his face and said, "Lookin' for me?"

* * *

Rosco had only left about three minutes ago to head home back to Hazzard. He seemed reluctant in leaving Eve alone with nobody around to call for help to in case she needed it, but she had insisted that she would be all right. Now that she was alone though, she wished that she'd made him stay until Luke got back. Where _was _he anyways? It had been a while since he called with an update. 

She went outside down the hallway to check up on the clothes that were washing in the laundromat. They still had about fifteen minutes to go, so she went ahead back to her room. She had just closed the door to the room when she felt a hand around her mouth to silence her.

"Don't move," she heard a voice threaten her—Nick. "Don't scream."

* * *

Eli had Luke and Ali cornered near the front door. He had a chair pulled up to sit in so he could keep his eye on them, the gun in his hand pointed at them. He pulled out a fresh cigarette and lit it with the lighter he had retrieved a few moments ago. He inhaled, leaned his head back and exhaled the smoke through his nose. 

He jerked his head back up and said, "Anyone up for a smoke?"

Luke shook his head, but he was sure that Ali wouldn't mind one. Much to his surprise, she said, "Nah, I quit."

"Really?" Luke asked. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks."

"All right, knock it off!" Eli snapped, twisting his neck to pop it. "Start talkin'. Who are you?"

"I'm a friend of Cooter Davenport's," Luke told him. "She's his cousin."

Eli gave her a sarcastic little smile. "How cute. Come to the rescue no doubt. Won't do much good, seein's how you're both gonna be dead in a few minutes."

"Why are you doin' this?" Ali asked suddenly, a glare fixated on him.

"'Cause I'm a bad lil' boy, that's why," he responded, a blank look on his face. "Those little sluts deserved what they got after playin' around with me. Nicky-boy decided to help out by pinnin' it on some sap that was cursed with my face. Then he paid that Detective Yulch off to arrest Davenport an' make it look like _he_ was the killer. It would've worked better if if your moron cousin had been left-handed. That photo from the security cameras . . . too bad they ain't in color, or else you could see my pretty baby blues, then this wouldn't have happened." He took another puff of his cigarette and shook his head. "Poor guy. Liable to get the needle over all this. Glad it ain't me."

* * *

Nick had Eve pinned to the wall, hand over her mouth, and looking into her eyes with a knife up under her chin. "I'm real sorry about this, Evie," he said in a quiet voice. "I know you want to help your poor cousin, but I'm afraid you've gotten in too deep. I can't let you screw this up for me." 

Eve had tears pouring out of her eyes, her whole body shaking with fear. Nick was about to plunge the knife deep into her head when there was a knock on the door.

"Honey, I left my keys, can ya let me in for a minute?" Rosco.

Nick had turned his head towards the door when he heard the knock, and Eve took the opportunity to kick him inbetween his legs and push him out of her way. "_ROSCO!_" she yelled, Nick already up on his feet and trying to get after her with the knife.

The door burst open and Nick found himself being grabbed from behind and slammed into the adjacent wall, the knife falling out of his hands.

"Get your _paws_ off my wife!" Rosco growled, kicking the knife out of Nick's reach.

Nick wasn't about to give up though---he tried to ram Rosco with his head into his stomach but that didn't work because the sheriff threw a punch right towards his face and sent him tumbling back into the wall. Eve gave her husband a look of surprise. "Honey. . . ," she smiled.

"Oooh, that _hurt!_" he replied, shaking the tingly feeling out of his hand.

"You rotten bastard!" Eve hissed at Nick,the girl attaching herself to her husband's side for safety."You better explain yourself this _instant_!"

Nick groaned, putting a hand to his head. It looked as if he had no choice but to spill the beans.

"Okay, I'll talk," he winced as he touched his head.

"Hold on, I'm calling the judge first," Eve fumed. "He'll want to hear this."

* * *

Eli was whistling the tune "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf" as he sat there and played with his gun, unloading it and loading it over and over. Every once and a while he'd point at something and say, "Bang!", pretend as if he'd shot something and laugh about it. Then he'd go back to whistling. Ali thought she'd go insane. 

Luke sighed and looked down at the floor. "Ali, if anything happens to us—I just want you to know that I like you—a lot. You're an interesting, very unique person."

She smiled a little bit. "Thanks, Luke. I like you too."

"All right, enough jabber," Eli griped, putting the bullets in his gun for the last time. "I've had enough of this babysittin' gig, so now it's time to sing a lullaby and let ya sleep with the fishes."

Ali grabbed Luke's hand and squeezed her eyes shut, wondering which one of them was going to go first. All of a sudden, she heard the door being kicked down and a horde of armed police officers came in, guns pointed and shooting. The gun was knocked out of Eli's hand and a bullet got him in the shoulder. The officers quickly dog-piled him, getting the cuffs on him.

"You have the right to remain silent—"


	20. Home Again

**A/N: Hey, everybody, here's the last chapter, sorry if it's seems rushed or anything :)**

**Straightening the Curves**

**Chapter Twenty: Home Again**

**A Few Days Later . . . **

**Balladeer: Nick Rogan was arrested on charges of contempt of court, conspiracy, assault an' attempted murder; Peter Yulch was charged with contempt of court, conspiracy, an' withholding evidence; an' Elijah Moore was arrested for the Caskells and Kent murders, conspiracy, an' holdin' hostages. We're in the courthouse now, so shhh. **

"Mr. Davenport," Judge Whitney said from his podium. "The state and the court is herby acquitting you of all charges in the murders Summer Caskells and Heather Kent. We apologize for any inconveniences this may have caused you." He banged his gavel. "Case dismissed."

**Balladeer: Y'know, we just witnessed the shortest murder case in history.**

The crowd applauded. Eve was so used to shaking hands with clients that she was almost taken aback when she received a rib-crushing hug instead. It took a few seconds but she gave him a hug back.

"Thank you," Cooter whispered, tears in his eyes. "Thanks for believin' in me."

"You're welcome, baby," Eve whispered back. "Let's go home, huh?"

_Home_. The word never sounded so much like music before.

* * *

Baby Chelsea was lying in her bed for the first time in her room. As Dr. Reynolds had said, the surgery had been a success. She shouldn't have any problems from now on. A little mobile was above her attached to the side of the bed, multi-colored ponies turning in circles that played the tune "Over the Rainbow". She would lay there and stare at it for long periods of time, almost until she went cross-eyed. Then she'd kick her legs and start sucking furiously on her pacifier, drool running down her little chin. Her fine brown hair had developed static electricity from the blankets, which gave her an almost eccentric look. 

Even though that's all she did the entire time, Bo and Rachel still thought her the most wonderful thing in the world. They couldn't get enough of her. They would semi-argue over who got to feed her next, rock her, dress her, tuck her in—except when it was time to change her diapers, Bo would always mysteriously disappear.

At night, they discovered that Chelsea was a good sleeper. Not once did she wake up during the night. Rachel had a feeling that it wouldn't last long though. She'd more than likely start screaming at two o'clock in the morning.

As Rachel had hoped, her side of the family finally got to see the new addition. Eve was adored by her, much to Rosco's dismay—he hoped she didn't start getting upset that they couldn't have any kids; although she _assured _him that it didn't matter either way. Ali had come along with them to see the baby, much to Rachel's surprise. She was also surprised to see that her and Luke had apparently patched things up—but that was good, she had hoped that they would.

Bo was ecstatic to see Luke again, and everybody was glad to see Cooter had gotten out of his mess. There was a huge party that night, to celebrate everybody's homecoming including Chelsea's, which even included warm apple pie made special by Daisy.

At the party, Luke went up to Ali when she was alone and asked her what her plans were going to be. He had hoped that perhaps she would stay in Hazzard, seeing how things had started patching up with her sisters since they had at last seen each other again. She gave him the answer "I'll think about it." Hopefully that translated into a "yes".

* * *

**Balladeer: It was a few more days later and things seemed to go back to normal. Ali, who had been staying with Bo and Rachel, had mentioned to her sister that she was thinking about sticking around for a longer while this time. Rachel said she'd see about getting her a job at the Boar's Nest with her. Chelsea had become an instant hit with everyone, already so much a part of their lives even though she'd only been around for a week or so. **

**Bo and Luke went back to racing around in the General, when Bo had time away from his new family of course. Rosco would still give 'em a run for their money—literally. They'd made it a sort of game; if the boys could outrun him, he owed them one dollar. But if he caught 'em, they owed_ him_ a dollar. So far, neither one was a dollar richer or poorer. As for Cooter, he went back to workin' at his garage alongside Bo.**

Cooter had been back in town for a few days now, but he was noticing that there was something a little funny about the folks. He'd pass them on the sidewalk and they would give him a suspicious look, walking past without even returning his hello. If a customer drove up to the garage, they'd make some quiet small talk whenever Cooter showed up. Some guy didn't even want him to pump his gas for him.

After a while, it became apparent to young Davenport that although he had been acquitted, the fact that he had been charged with murder in the first place had made a deep cut in his reputation. It became depressing after a while.

One day, when he was alone with just Bo and Luke for company, he came up and said,

"Fellas, I know y'all ain't gonna like it, but I think I'm gonna pack up an' move on."

The Duke boys exchanged glances and stared at their best friend. "Cooter, you can't do that!" Bo exclaimed. "You just came back not too long ago! What about the garage?"

Cooter dug his set of keys out of his pocket and tossed them at Luke. "Here. You two can handle it. I'm sellin' my half to ya, Luke."

Luke gave him a baffled look. "But—Cooter, I can't accept this."

"Guys, I _have _to go. You haven't seen the looks these people have been givin' me since I came home. It's like I'm still on trial—an' all of Hazzard's the jury."

The boys looked a little upset at this. "Where'll ya go?" Bo asked quietly.

He shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Around. Might get a truckin' job. It don't matter none though, just so long as I ain't here." He noticed the somber looks on their faces. "What? It's not like I'm leavin' forever. I'll come back for a visit."

"Just do what ya feels best," Luke told him. "We'll sure miss ya though."

"I know ya will. I want y'all to take care of this place for me," he said, looking around and sighing. He was sure gonna miss this place. "An' I promised Evie two years of free service as part of my payment, so I'll just transfer it to y'all. She shouldn't mind. So, whattya say, Luke? Deal or no deal?"

Bo looked at his cousin, hoping he'd say 'yes'. "Come on, Luke! It'll be fun, us workin' together!"

Luke chuckled. "All right, it's a deal."

**Balladeer: An' so, that was the legend of how one Duke became a father, another helped a friend in need, an' how everybody learned that life throws some really twisted curves at ya—an' it's your job to straighten 'em back out.**

* * *

_**Epilogue**_

**_A few days earlier . . . _**

_J.D. "Boss"Hogg---the name used to mean power, dignity, and control. Here in Bonner State Prison, it meant less than a hill of beans.Prison does stuff to a man. It tears away at the soul, casts a dark shadow over him---but most of all it gets a man to thinking about how he got there in the first place . . . and who's to blame._

_The television was slightly blurred with static in the mess hall where the prisoners ate every day. Boss---orbetter knownas "Hogg" inthe prison---hovered over his less than ample servings of mashed potatoes, corn, and fried chicken, wary that the others around him would try to steal what he had. He hated it here. He waswasting away intonothing with the meals theydished out._

_The last thing hecould have cared about at that moment was whatwas on the televison but several names that the newscaster spat out caught his attention---_

_"Live from Atlanta, the charges brought forth against Cooter Davenport have been dropped due to mistaken identity. The actual "Hammer Head" murderer turns out to be an Elijah Moore, who has an uncanny resemblance to Mr. Davenport. Davenport's lawyer, Evelyn Coltrane, and his best friend Luke Duke managed to figure out this misunderstanding and brought forth the truth before it was too late."_

_Boss heard the name Duke and gripped his fork almost enough to bend it. Dukes--those rotten Dukes, the ones that put him in this miserable place. And that two-timing brother-in-law, that _sheriff_, he must've married that little secretary. Boss shoveled a helping a potatoes into his mouth, a glare cemented on his face. If it was the last thing he ever did, Duke and Coltrane alike would be sorry that they ever messed with the likes of him._

**The End (for now . . . )

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**Thanks to all who reviewed and encouraged me to keep writing! Sorry if the ending seemed a bit rushed, but that always tends to happen with every story I write. Coming up in the future----the third part of the story, an angsty tragic story titled "_Deliver Us From Evil_", starring the Dukes, the Coltranes, the Hoggs, and yes even Flash the Wonder Dog. **

**I'm going to be getting ready to move back to the college dorms, so I don't know how fast my updates are gonna be. I'll try and get the first chapter up this week (maybe tomorrow), but I ain't gonna be able to update everyday like I did with this story. Be patient though, 'cause the way I got it figured, it's gonna be a real tearjerker. **


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